The Hidden Heart
by Pinguin1993
Summary: Working Title. Leo/Usagi katanashipping. [CHAPTER 18: THIS IS WHERE IT STARTS, the voice said. But there was an edge to Mikey that hadn't been there before when he replied: "No. This is where it ends."]
1. Prologue

**AN:** _Hello, everyone. Probably, none of you remember me. That's fine. I haven't popped in for quite a while now. When I first entered the TMNT fandom a good five years ago, I started out with one story. It was my baby. I never finished it. I remember that back then, English was a strange country for me- I found my way around, but I never managed to properly introduce myself to the locals. My first language is German, just so you know. All I can say now is: I am back. I have grown since then, but I guess some things stay with you no matter how far you think you've come. The fic has grown, too. It's not an adult yet, more like a rebellious teenager, but it has made its first steps, it has learned to walk and talk and how to adjust. I hope you are satisfied with the results. I will attempt weekly updates, most likely every Monday and Friday._

_Please note that the old fic is still out there somewhere, mainly because I am re-typing it and am too lazy to save it to my hard drive. If you know what is good for you, you will not look at it too closely. This is a similar story, but it is not the same. Should you find any mistakes, they are solely mine, but feel free to point them out in the reviews. See you next monday.  
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**Clarifications:** _This is a very slight AU fic. That means the animated movie did never happen. The story is set after the Tales of Leo / Prodigal Son story arc, but before the Samurai Tourist incident. In short, I pretend that Usagi has never been to Dimension Third Earth before, and Raph and Mikey have never met him.__  
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**Warnings:** _T for blood, violence, disturbing images and swearing. __Might contain hints of Usagi/Leo later on. Or... more than hints. Should I mess up any timelines, I apologize beforehand.__  
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**Disclaimer:** _I have never been able to come up with witty disclaimers. I do not own TMNT and make no profit with this fic. Now, on with the story._

**Edit:** _I have a beta now! Thanks to PlainSimpleGarak for taking the time to point out the errors of my ways. You rock!__  
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* * *

**PROLOGUE**

* * *

It was Thursday evening. The four turtle brothers were seated around the great kitchen table. At some point earlier that day, they carried it out into the main room where they set it up next to the bridge that covered their small pool. That felt like another lifetime. Back then, they had still thought it was going to be a wild night. They had been proven wrong by one hour of literally_ nothing_. It was eerily quiet now, the silence disrupted only by the development of Michelangelo's newest nervous habit.

_Ta-ta-tap. Ta-ta-tap._

The youngest was absent mindedly tapping his fingers against the darkened wood. His gazerested on an old Silver Sentry comic book he read earlier that evening. The thought of the newest issues that currently sat on his bunk upstairs, still shiny in their plastic sheets, made him groan softly to himself.

_Ta-ta-tap. Ta-ta-tap._

Raphael was obviously annoyed by the sound of Mikey's fingers. He had soon settled for clenching and unclenching his fists repeatedly in favor of bashing his brother's head in. Although he did not realize it, his movements were perfectly on key to the tapping. A keen observer would easily notice the mottled shade of reddish green his face took on. Too bad there was nobody at hand.

_Ta-ta-tap. Ta-ta-tap._

Donatello was lying on the table top with his forehead against the wood. He was inhaling age-old coffee through the microscopic gaps and sighing softly to himself. Every inch of him was longing for his work table, his screwdriver, a bunsen burner, _anything_ that did not involve listening to the ticking of the clock and the build-up of Raph's anger. But he couldn't find it in him to break the silence. His every limb felt like lead.

_Ta-ta-tap. Ta-ta-tap._

The silence continued for exactly three point two more seconds.

_Ta-ta-tap. Ta-ta-tap._

"All right! Dat's_ it_!"

Raphael's sudden outburst caused Donatello to look up just in time to see his older brother jump from his chair. Raph's face was mottled and ugly with rage. "I swear, Mikey! You stop that tappin' right now, or I'll come an' make ya!"

"C'mon, Raphie-boy, 's not like I'm doing anything wro-" Michelangelo started but never got further. He was abruptly cut off when Raph jumped him. They went down heavily, Raph on top of Mikey. Donatello watched with curious detachment while the second-eldest brother continued to strangle the youngest, who responded by defiantly croaking further insults at him. _At least the tapping stopped_, Don thought. There was a thump when his forehead went back for another meeting with the table.

"Mikey," Leonardo said. His voice was an ocean of calm in the ruckus. A quick glance from Don confirmed that the eldest hadn't even opened his eyes. He had spent the past hour meditating, presumably. Were it anyone else, Don would call it "taking a nap". Not with Leo, though. He was taking these things seriously.

"He started it!" Mikey hissed, fighting for breath. Leo simply raised one eyebrow in response.

"Raph..."

Raphael looked as if he had quite a lot to say about that. Instead he bit back his remark, slapped Mikey one last time and finally got up. His amber eyes were blazing with the Raphael equivalent of amusement. Donatello made a mental note to stay away from his hot-headed brother tonight. He wearily watched while the latter went back to his chair and fell into it with a heavy crash of shell on wood. Then, in the quiet after the storm, Raph absently tapped his fingers against the chair legs.

_Ta-ta-tap. Ta-ta-tap._

Mikey watched him from the floor, but when nobody commented on Raphael's behaviour, he got up with a defeated grunt and fell back into his chair. In the restored silence that followed, the soft sound of flesh on wood was like water torture to Donatello. He groaned again and heard Leo breathe out heavily in return.

_Ta-ta-tap. Ta-ta-tap._

"We could, you know, play a game," Mikey finally suggested. "'S not like we need anybody else, what with four of us around."

When it became clear that the others would not reply, Raph grunted a vague affirmation. "Fine. Whaddaya have in mind?"

Thing is, it was supposed to be game night. Thursdays had become their unofficial "day off" during the week. April closed her shop on Thursdays and often paid them a visit. These days, Casey was by her side more often than not. Leatherhead, who had taken up camp not far from the new Lair, sometimes dropped by to greet them, and of course Splinter would sit in his armchair and watch over everything with the quiet amusement of the elderly. They would play board games or try out Mikey's newest video game. Sometimes they just sat together and told stories. It had begun to become a ritual, and the absence of people felt like a physical pang._  
_

Today was different. Today, April and Casey were looking at some antique thing or other out of the state. Today, Leatherhead was busy with something extremely delicate and presumably explosive in his lab. At least that's what the turtles assumed when he did not answer his door nor his cell.

Today, Master Splinter was not at home.

"Dunno. 'S boring."

"Yeah. So what."

"We could-" Mikey started but was cut off by a voice from the other end of the table. Leo kept his eyes closed, but he raised his other eyebrow to meet the first when he interrupted his brother. "No."

The orange-wearing brother shot the eldest an annoyed look. "We could play some story-telling. Dunno. I start a story and you tell me when and where it happened to us."

There was some more silence. Raph had stopped tapping.

"Fine wit' me," he finally muttered and straightened up in his chair. "Don?"

With the sigh of the long-suffering, Donatello raised his head and leaned back. "Mh. 'Kay. Leo?"

Accepting that his meditation was going nowhere at this time of night, Leo finally opened his eyes and blinked at the other three. "All right," he finally agreed. "Let's move this to the sofa though." Which they did, lounging on the battered blue thing like the lazy teenagers they were, with Mikey off to prepare some popcorn now that some action was, presumably, going to take place.

"I'll start," he announced when he returned and flopped down heavily in his seat. He tossed some popcorn into the air and caught it expertly with his mouth. Don found himself calculating the approximate speed of the corn as it fell. "Okay. Remember that time when Leo played Mario Karts with me and I totally kicked his shell?"

That had come... unexpected. Leo frowned at the memory while Raph suppressed a grin. "You mean that time when I let you win so you'd stop pouting, because I had already beaten you seven times before?" The leader finally asked, causing Raph to burst out laughing.

"Well. No," Mikey protested. "No, that _totally_ wasn't- _Raph, stop laughing_! Hey! It's really not that funny! Besides, why would you_ let me_ win, Leo? You never let anyone win! It's not honourable or something!"

"Because, if I hadn't, you probably would have cried," Leo said. It could be Mikey's imagination, but to him, the eldest looked unbearably smug.

"So not!"

"So too," Leonardo replied, completely at ease.

Mikey went beet red under his green skin. "But! But if I hadn't showed you the tricks with the shortcuts earlier! Then you never would have gotten the hang of it! I would've so beaten you! It was totally my doing that you won!"

Leo flashed him a grin. "That may well be the case. Well done, Mikey. Nice going."

"It's futile," Don sighed and flopped off the sofa to the ground, where he stayed as an olive green heap against the blue carpet. "That's like saying, I don't know, hadn't I built that bomb that later blew up that old rooftop shed we were hiding behind, then the foot had never found us."

"You ain't making no sense," Mikey said with some concern and a great deal more scorn. Don simply snorted. "Double negative, Mikey."

Leo frowned down at both of them. He tried to get through Don's muttering to find out the exact amount of trouble everyone was in.

"Or like, dat one time with the spider behind the dumpsters in the alley," Raph joined in quickly, effectively distracting the others. "If you hadn't screamed like a girl, the cops never would've come lookin' and you wouldn't have had to get that old lady's dress from the clothes line and everything." He frowned momentarily. "That would've been such a missed opportunity, with you bein' such a great lady actor." He grinned, all teeth.

"You are the one with arachnophobia, though," Leo pointed out from his seat on the back of the sofa. "Had you seen the spide, it would've been _you_ in the dress." He gave that thought some consideration and shuddered at the mental image. Raph gave him a friendly shove that nearly threw him off the furniture. "Stuff it."

That was when the game became_ 'who-can-tease-the-best'_, which mainly consisted of pointing out all possible eventualities of every situation they could think of. As time went by, everything became more and more confusing until it stopped making sense altogether at around two a.m. That was when Leo unglued Donnie's face from the sofa cushions, used them to slap Raph back to wakefulness, lifted Mikey over his shoulder and effectively ordered them to bed. It should be noted that they were tired enough not to argue with him.

Each of the four was asleep before their heads hit the pillows. And, for the last time that night, silence fell over the great stone halls of the Lair.

For a while.


	2. Going down

**AN:** _Review is review. Thanks to NJ7009 for taking the time to tell me about her opinions. I am sorry it got confusing somewhere. I assure you, it made perfect sense in my head, but then again, that was at three in the morning. I had another look at the prologue and hope I fixed the worst flaws. If you could review the other chapters as well in hindsight of confusion and German phrasing, that would be amazing. In any case: Should anyone find a typo, a grammatical error, or a plot hole, please point them out. I am here to get better, not to get my feelings spared._

**Edit:** _Garak beta'd this one as well. I think it reads much better now! Once again, thank you so much for your help. Everyone else, enjoy!__  
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**Disclaimer:** _I do not own.__  
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* * *

**GOING DOWN  
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* * *

In his dream Leonardo found himself on Brooklyn Bridge, fighting for his life. He knew it was a dream right away, because the sky was all black. Not a single star was out, and the yellow-tinged fog that normally suffocated the city was gone. Also, he was sure he remembered the situation a little differently. For one thing, his family was missing.

A face stared out at him from amidst green smoke, a face like a red demon made of iron. _The Daimyo's son,_ he thought, frozen in place. But that wasn't right. The angle was all wrong. He couldn't remember where he had lost his swords, but they were gone, and so were all his defenses. His feet wouldn't move. The smoke was scratching in his throat and made his eyes water.

Another dim memory crossed his mind and mixed with the haze of the dream. He hadn't been defenseless. He'd had a weapon, a metal gauntlet spiked with razor-sharp claws. It was all coming back to him now. He'd taken it from Ue right before he had been pushed down the bridge. It had helped save his life.

_But what, if..?_

He looked at his hand, the imminent danger momentarily forgotten. No spikes. No glove, or gauntlet, and definitely no weapon. All he found was naked green flesh, open and vulnerable. And then: A flash of silver, and a splatter of red that clouded his vision in a way the smoke never could.

And suddenly there was a blade in his stomach and his head was forced over the edge of the bridge post, hundreds of feet above the water. The last thing he saw was his family's faces, their eyes wide with horror. Their screams mixed with a horrible, hollow laughter. Then he fell.

_The dream changed._

Raphael was in rage. That much was obvious. Mikey had done something. It was all fuzzy, he couldn't remember properly. The fight was petty, useless, futile. It always was, back in the day. The youngest' blue eyes were sparkling with mischief while he danced out of Raph's way, again and again, and taunted the red-masked turtle without mercy.

Until suddenly he didn't. The world tilted when Mikey stumbled backwards over a stray brick, and then righted itself when his shell hit the ground.

There was a metal pipe in Raph's hands. Later, nobody could remember how it got there.

Leo shot forward, intending to stop his brother's hand. He would have gotten there in time, too. He could almost see himself grab Raph's arm, yank his brother back; could see the comprehension dawn on his face when he dropped the pipe and Mikey crawled away from him with something like fear in his eyes. It was all going to be all right.

_But what, if..?_

He tripped over air and lost a precious second before he regained his balance. His head snapped up in time to see the pipe crash down. There was a scream, abruptly cut off. Maybe it was his own. He couldn't remember. Something inside of him cracked at the sight and he squeezed his eyes shut. _Impossible. That never happened. It hadn't. It couldn't have!_

_The dream changed again._

He was at the Battle Nexus tournament, fighting Miyamoto Usagi. This time, he knew what would happen. He hadn't known back then, of course, but this was a dream. He was beginning to understand its nature. Silver steel flashed and sang while he and the young samurai in front of him crossed blades again and again. He couldn't remember when he had last enjoyed himself this much in a fight.

_There was movement behind him. Someone in the crowd screamed._ He hadn't known back then. Now, it was all so obvious.

Leo stepped aside and felt the poisoned dart whistle past him. He allowed himself the smallest smile of satisfaction. _That was it! He did it! The odds were turning in his favor!_

When he turned again to resume the battle, Usagi's eyes were already glazing over. He looked pale underneath his fur, but his eyes held a terror unbeknown to Leonardo up to that very moment, when the ninja fell to his knees in the dust of the arena.

"No," he heard himself say, as if from a great distance.

_He felt his future shift, and then the floor dropped out from under him._

Leo's shell hit the ground next to his bed with a dull thud. He awoke with a start, gasping for air. There didn't seem to be enough oxygen in the room. His chest was tight, and his head was spinning.

He closed his eyes against the nausea and untangled himself from his sheets with some difficulties. The adrenaline was fading from his system and left him shaking, a hollow feeling in his stomach. His skin was itching. What happened? There had been a nightmare. A bad one. The memory was already distant, fading. Maybe meditation would bring it back, if he concentrated enough.

A brief flash of blood and panic crossed his mind, and he shuddered. Now that he thought about it, maybe he shouldn't try to bring that particular nightmare back anytime soon. Or ever. No, he was sure there was not a single thing he wanted to remember about this night.

The night air felt cool on the thin sheath of sweat that covered his skin. For a moment he simply sat there, in the mess of his bed, and tried to get his breathing under control.

He resisted the urge to check on his brothers for nearly two more minutes. But he found it impossible to fall back asleep. Finally, he gave in. His footsteps were soundless when he slipped through his door and out the gallery. There were five doors up here- their respective rooms and a small bathroom. He stopped at each and listened. Sure enough, Mikey and Raphael were snoring audibly through the door. Donatello would prove more of a challenge, as he was a quiet sleeper. But his door was slightly ajar. Through the gap, Leo could just make out a green hand dangling off the bed in the cluttered room, rising and falling with each of the gentle-natured brother's breaths.

Relieved, Leo headed to the kitchen to get a drink. While he let the cold water run into a glass and then over his wrists, he shot a glance at the clock. It was past six in the morning and there was no way he could get back to sleep now, not even if he wanted to. Although, without Splinter to wake them, it would take his brothers at least another hour to wake up. It seemed he had plenty of time on his hands.

After a few minutes of contemplative silence, he decided to settle for a brief morning run to get the tension out of his legs.

He wrote a note first and pinned it to the fridge, because he was supposed to be the responsible brother. Then he walked up to the wall door that opened into the sewer tunnels. Donatello had only just finished working on it. When Leo pushed the buttons on the wall, the panel slid up and away without a sound, barely causing a stir in the air. His footsteps were echoing loudly in comparison.

Seconds later, silence came back and settled comfortably into its assigned spot. Only the slight rustle of the leaves of a small houseplant nearby spoke of Leonardo's leaving, and then that, too, stopped.

***T*M*N*T***

Leonardo was running.

The cramp in his legs stopped after the first hundred or so feet, but the uneasy, constricted feeling in his chest did not. The nightmare, although he still found himself unable to remember it, kept gnawing on him. So he kept on running, out of some distant hope that if he just tried hard enough, if his pounding feet just brought enough distance between himself and his bed, he might be able to find back to himself.

_What a paradox. The further I get from my room, the safer I feel_. He poured on the speed until the surrounding rooftops and chimneys were a blur at the edge of his vision. He knew he was pushing his limit this early in the morning, but for the first time in ages, he couldn't find it in him to care.

The sun was rising over the rooftops to his left when he first stopped to catch his breath. He leaned back against an old chimney to watch the city come back to life. Of course, the streets never slept; he had learned that the hard way. They all had. But there was still something peaceful about these first brief hours of dawn, when the night shift went to bed and the early morning people were still sleeping. The streets looked almost... clean._ Peaceful,_ even.

When the first rays of light strayed into the darker alleyways, he finally turned around and headed back. Or at least, he intended to. That was until he took a good look at his surroundings and found himself lost. The sharp outlines around him were harsh and unfamiliar, and the looming skyscrapers of the inner city were a long way off to the right. _When did that happen?!_ He felt like a complete idiot.

But no, that was ridiculous. This was _his_ city. At some point or another, he had been everywhere in every possible state of consciousness. Of course he would find back. He simply needed a starting point.

_Like that bridge_. He _knew_ that bridge, with its green iron posts and the two-lane highway that crossed it. The angle was different from the way he remembered it, but that was fine. There was a manhole nearby that would lead him directly down into the main tunnels, and from there it was a stone's throw to the lair. Judging from the sun, he could still be back before anyone else even woke up.

He kept an eye on the bridge when he moved again. His stride was full of purpose now, slow and cautious where it took him close to the edges of the rooftops. It would do no good to scare some beggars or joggers this early in the morning. Raph would never let him live that down. He could always get back to running once he was back underground.

He refused to add _'where he belonged'_ to that thought, simply out of defiance. Things like these started in the head.

There was still a bit of a chill in the air, although it promised to be warmer later on. Half a day was a lifetime away in mutant turtle time. Maybe they could all go to the hills by the park then, lie in the sun for a bit. Later, of course.

He remembered all too well a different time up on the roofs, in different weather, and shivered. Automatically, his eyes scanned the surrounding area. No black figures were in sight. But then you seldom spotted them until they tried to run you through with a blade.

He had survived back then, of course. He had fought off quite a lot of them, really. Raph was still smiling when he talked about Hun's visage, all blue and black with bruises, and how _angry_ the man had been. It was a safe topic when it came to _that night._ Victories always were. Of course, it could have all gone differently. With just a few more of the Foot ninja present, he would have been doomed. The thought that they had only toyed with him so that he was still alive to deliver the final message tore at him still, even though the pain was much more distant now than it had been: less devastating, more fuelling. It had been a close call, that much was certain.

_Really, what if..?_

He stopped short, his legs nearly bucking beneath him, and had to lean against a wall to steady himself. _What had that been? For a moment he had almost been able to _feel _that. One more blade, coming from an unlucky angle, driving home. One more shuriken, thrown_ just so_, embedded in his throat before he'd had the chance to block it._ It _could_ have happened. But the metallic taste on his tongue was no eventuality. He had felt the world _tilt_ for a moment.

_Ridiculous_, he scolded himself. _It wasn't me who died that night_. Besides, there was a limit to how many ninja you could put up on one roof before they started being a hindrance to each other. Twenty, maybe. Thirty at the utmost. He could fight off twenty Foot ninja. He'd done it before. He'd done it back then, too.

_His brothers, though... What if..?_

_No._ He stopped these thoughts right there. _Absolutely not. No way._ It wasn't them who the Shredder had been after. Never had been. They were a nuisance, in the way at best, but never the final goal. For some reason, that had always just been Leonardo.

He started moving again, down the rusty fire escape of a long-abandoned building. This was not a nice neighborhood. Of course, in comparison to the sewer tunnels, it was almost cozy. He smiled grimly at the thought.

There was a manhole cover not far down the alley. After he was sure that nobody was watching him, he got up and went over to the metal grating. He lifted it easily enough; years of practice had turned the movements into muscle memory. The metal didn't even make a sound when he put it down next to his feet.

The darkness was a round black circle below him. He could feel his sensitive reptilian skin adjust to the change in temperature when he slid down into the damp cold. So far, so obvious. Now, he just needed to slip the cover back into place, and then he could-

The moment the darkness closed in around him, he remembered his dream.

Seconds later, he realized that he had let go of the ladder while he had been busy screaming.

_Shell._

And yet, there was something almost like gratefulness in him when he hit the ground. His brain had sped through images one worse than the next. He dreaded what was to come. The brief moment of black pain that stopped his screams also managed to put a stop to the vivid nightmare that had suddenly become all too tangible around him.

Even though he landed on his back, and therefore on his shell, the impact forced all air from his lungs and left him gasping. White and red splotches were dancing in and out of his vision, and the open manhole above was a colorless blur that seemed to mock him with its cheerful brightness. He just hoped he hadn't broken anything. A splinter of his shell in his back, and that would be it. Donnie would kill him if he died of something so stupid.

_Manhole_, the coherent part of his mind urged. _Get away from the open manhole._ But there wasn't enough oxygen. His thoughts drowned in the sea of screams from every other part of his brain. He couldn't focus. Was that even him on the ground? Were the slimy walls even real? Water dropped in the distance. At least, he hoped it was water. There wasn't any air. _Breathe,_ the sane part deep inside of him shouted, and then again, louder: _BREATHE!_

He took a breath. It was foul, stale, dusty, and altogether horrible New York City sewer air. He couldn't remember anything tasting better than this.

"Oh.. shell," he managed weakly after what felt like the longest minutes of his life. Then he rolled over and crawled away from the manhole.

He thought later that he must have thrown up at least once, even though he couldn't remember any of it. The headache was mind-splitting. It was blinding. He couldn't see through the pain; it was turning everything into black and white lines and wavy symbols that made no sense to him. Eventually, when he was convinced that this must be far enough from prying eyes, he turned and leaned back against the tunnel walls. There were outlines in the haze now. He could just make out his hand when he waved it in front of his eyes. It was a grey line among grey lines, but one with a shape.

There was also the white coin that was the manhole, maybe ten feet to his left and then all the way up from there.

Well, too bad, because there was no way he was going any further than this.

There was a cell tucked into his belt. He remembered now. It wasn't broken. It was tucked into a pouch at the front of his belt, and so were his smoke pellets and his shuriken. He didn't fall on those. He would have noticed. Phone. _Phonephonephone, cellcellcell,_ what funny words those were. And so many numbers on it, too. One Two Three Four Five; they made him giggle, and then that made him wince. There was a combination somewhere that would call in help, he knew. He simply had forgotten which one it was.

_Concussion,_ the rational part of him tried to explain. The thought got stuck somewhere between the pain and the numbness and died away before Leo took notice.

Nothing for it, then. He pressed the first button and waited for something to happen. After a few seconds, he also remembered to hold the cell up against his face.

The moments dragged on, a wait that probably wasn't much time at all, and then a noise shook him awake rather violently. Briefly, his stomach argued whether or not it should have a second go. Thankfully, his remaining rational brain parts took the chance to scream a command at him again.

_SAY SOMETHING!_

That was Raphael's voice on the line, tinny and muffled, but definitely Raphael. _Still asleep in his hammock_, Leo imagined, _with his head in the pillows and his arm craned awkwardly to the right so he could see the screen._ The automatic smile that spread on his beak threatened to split his face in half with pain. Leo groaned, and Raph stopped muttering.

"Leo?" He asked after a brief second of rustling sheets. His voice was much clearer now. "'S that you? Are you okay?"

_Not really_, Leo wanted to say._ I had a little accident with a manhole._ Somewhere on the way to his mouth, the words took a beating and came out as a whine.

"It hurts, Raph!"

Well. At least it got the action going.

The leader was partially aware that people were shouting at one another. Their voices were teensy-weensy-small and sounded ridiculous from where he had dropped the cell onto his plastron, but by now he knew better than to grin. There was no reason for it. He felt awful. What was worse than awful? _Awful-ler. Heh. Awful-ler-er-er._

"Will you listen to that!" Someone shouted. _Raph._ His Brooklyn accent was always thickest when he was worried. Leo tried to comply and listened. There was muttering. He figured it must be him who did that, although he could not recall a single instance in his life that had left him muttering to himself in a gutter before._ Hm. Strange_. Well, there was a first time for everything. Bathing. Pizza. Death. _No, that wasn't right. _He wasn't dead yet._ Dead would be better._

"Awful-ler-er," he whispered again, to keep himself awake. "Oh. Donnie will have my shell for this." His gaze trailed up to the manhole in the ceiling again. It seemed to be much higher up now from where he was lying in the mud.

"Damn right I will!" That must have been Donnie, suddenly very close to his ear. The phone had slipped down and past his shoulder when he'd dropped sideways. Leo flinched.

The movement cleared his head momentarily. The empty space in his brain occupied itself with different pronunciations of the sentence _"I think I am going to die"._

"I think I am going to faint soon," he announced, with absolute certainty. Then he did.


	3. Walking far

**AN:** _Hey everyone! Thanks to all who've come this far! It looks like I'll be able to keep up the Monday-Friday-Updates for now. I have eight chapters done so far, which pretty much cover about 14 chapters from the pre-posted story from a few years ago. What else is new? I now have a **beta: PlainSimpleGarak, **who agreed to correct my grammar and spelling and somehow manages to wrestle through the confusing mess in amazing speed. The prologue and the first chapter have been polished up already! Special thanks to all who have reviewed so far. Now, enjoy!_**  
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**Edit:** _Chapter is now beta'd!__  
_

**Disclaimer:** _Nope. Still don't own.__  
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**WALKING FAR  
**

* * *

When Leonardo woke up, he was cold.

Moving hurt, so he didn't move much. He couldn't remember what happened exactly or where he was. But that was just as well. He also couldn't remember the last time he had last been warm in his life, which should have been a cause for great concern. Somehow it wasn't. There was a lot of empty space in his head. No feelings involved. Well, there was a black _something _lurking in the darker shadows of his mind that might have disagreed. But he preferred not to look at that too closely. It had teeth.

He guessed there was something he should be doing. There always was.

Before he could figure out what he was supposed to make an attempt at, darkness claimed him again.

***T*M*N*T***

Donatello was worried.

Finding Leo had been a piece of cake, but it proved to be much more difficult to get him home. The main reason for that was that the eldest turtle fell down into one of the main tunnels, which meant that the others needed to get in, grab him, and get him out in secrecy as quickly as possible and without any unfortunate sewer workers seeing them. That also meant they had to park the sewer glider somewhere unseen so it wouldn't be found. Mikey briefly argued that they could keep an eye on it. When Raph snarled that_ apparently_, Mikey was fine with staying behind to take care of a _heap of scrap metal_ while everyone else went to find Leo, the youngest relapsed into silence.

They marched the slimy tunnels for minutes that felt like small eternities, each turtle caught up in their own thoughts.

Leo was disturbingly easy to spot. He lay slumped against the wall a few feet from the bright alarm sign that was the open manhole, his head down on his chest, apparently unconscious. That was worse than what even Don had imagined. Leo was never this..._ irresponsible_. _No way_. He had to be more severely hurt than even the genius had feared.

After Don was reasonably sure that neither his oldest brother's neck nor his back were broken, Raph lifted the blue-clad turtle up in a bridesmaid's carry and they made their way back to the glider. Mikey remained uncharacteristically quiet, his big blue eyes lever leaving Leonardo's face as they walked.

"He'll be okay, won't he, Donnie?" He asked in a small voice when they were carefully steering the overloaded glider home. Donatello thought he saw Raphael stiffen in his seat, but that might have been a trick of the light. He remembered the hothead kneeling next to an impressive dent in the old bricks of the tunnel floor, his fingers absently running over the cracks, all the way around, while Don himself had checked for a pulse with fingers that were shaking with fear and, later, finally, shaking with relief.

"Sure," he replied. "Of course he will. Let's just get him home for now."

That was seven hours ago, and Leo still gave no sign of waking up anytime soon.

And Don really wished he could actually _do something_. He had been able to fix the dislocated shoulder, sure. He knew how much penicillin was the right daily dosage for each of them with his eyes closed, yes. He could recognize a concussion when he saw one, and he was pretty good with a needle, but _this_ was _different_. This seemed to be a spiritual thing as much as anything else. And the truth was, right after Sensei Splinter, _Leo_ was the spiritual guide of the family. If any of the others had fallen prey to this, Leo would have been able to help. Don was just useless.

"Still nothin'," Raph announced as he entered the kitchen and fell heavily into a chair. The old wood creaked under his weight. "He stopped trashin', but he's still mutterin'. Hey," he said when he caught sight of Don's face. "Stop that. 'S not your fault. You did all you could."

_But that was just it, wasn't it?_ Don had done what he could, which was basic first aid, and now he had reached the end of his rope. With a start he realized that there were tears in his eyes.

In a rush, Raph was out of his chair and had his arms around his younger brother. It was a Raph-hug: awkward and not entirely comfortable, with the older turtle patting his shell in his own definition of gentleness. But Don hung on for dear life.

"I just... wish," he sobbed eventually, with dry heaving gaps between the words where tears should be but would not come, not after all these years, "that I knew more... about... basic healing. Like sensei... or Leo. Like Usagi. I don't know..."

"Who is this Usagi guy, anyway?" Raph muttered into his shoulder. "Like, you know him, Leo looks up to him for _fu-_ for _shell_'s sake, and Sensei seems to approve of 'm, too. And y'know Mikey, he will take to anyone who will listen to him. I just… I dunno."

Don gave him a startled laugh at that and finally pushed away. "He's a nice enough guy, and he helped us out before," he said and went over to the kitchen sink to drain the last hiccups with a glass of water. "You'd like him. He can kick Leo's butt in a fight, that much is obvious." His grin felt forced, with too many teeth. Thankfully, Raph didn't comment. "Here, I'll check up on Mikey in a bit. Can you get back to Leo's room and tell me as soon as anything changes? Like, he heats up or starts trashing again... And when he wakes up, of course."

He didn't add "_if _he wakes up", but it still hung in the air between them like a big, ugly question mark.

Raph cleared his throat. "Uh. Yeah, sure thing. I got it." Don watched him leave and listened to his heavy footsteps on the stairs until they disappeared into Leo's room. His gaze trailed over the walls aimlessly until his eyes found the kitchen clock. It was barely three in the afternoon. _Had he eaten today? Had any of them?_ He was not in the mood to dwell on that. _Now, what to do..._

_Mikey,_ he reminded himself. _Mikey is important._

He had anticipated his brother to be a right mess, but even so the youngest turtle's room was a bit of a shock. Sure, it always was, but that was because it was untidy to the point of a twisted, upside-down perfection. The floor was a maze of dark places where food once lay and now certain doom awaited those who tread there.

But now it was_... different._

It was still messy, but it was somehow messy _in heaps_, like someone had made an attempt to clean up and abandoned it halfway in. Every light in the room was on, including the one on the bed stand, the desk light and a couple of candles along one of the metal bookshelves. Michelangelo was sitting in a cleared spot on the ground, looking around with wide eyes, like he had meant to do something but couldn't remember what that was. The sight tore at Don's heart. He had a moment of curious blankness when he realized that Mikey was clutching his threadbare blue baby blanket to his chest, and then he had crossed the threshold and settled down next to the youngest on the floor.

The silence was thick and his knees grew cold too quickly. With a quiet sigh he pulled Mikey up with him and over to the bed, where they lay down next to each other in silence. Mikey was staring at him, still looking so lost that it was almost creepy.

"Tell me about it, then," the older turtle whispered and rubbed the younger boy's shoulders in the confined space of the bed. It really was too small for the two of them.

Then space was suddenly not an issue anymore, because Mikey rolled over to his side, curled around Don, and started to cry.

***T*M*N*T**

Raph was not good with words. Nobody knew that better than him. But there was something about the quiet in here that unnerved him. The floor was clean and everything was stacked neatly or put away into drawers, and the air smelled of sandalwood. It was a Leo-smell that made his throat sting.

He also wasn't good with feelings. He had them, of course, but half the time he didn't know how to deal with them properly. Mostly, they made him_ angry_. And the _whole situation_ made him angry enough as it was. He found himself wishing that Splinter was home, immediately followed by the wish that Leo would wake up so he could tell Raph what to do.

That was stupid, of course.

"You're makin' me stupid," he told the still figure on the bed. Leo, or the bits of him that stuck out from beneath the blankets, remained impassive, but then he always did when Raphael was talking incoherently. "Though I'm not the stupid one here, am I? I'm not the one who fell down a man'ole, for _fu-_ for _shell'_s sake." It was an unconscious process, replacing his swear words. He did it for the benefit of the younger turtles, even though he wasn't sure why he bothered. He remembered one time in the lab when Don had dropped something heavy on his foot and let out a blue streak that would have made a sailor blush.

"I'm pro'lly doin' it for your sake," he told Leo. "So ya won't have to throw a fit over me." He coughed, caught sight of white bandages underneath the dark blankets and lapsed back into quiet muttering. "Not that you're fit for a fit. Ehehe." His laughter hung eerily in the empty air between them and he dispersed it with a sigh, finally pulling the desk chair out from under the desk and settling on it. "Seriously, though," he muttered and crossed his arms across his plastron, "what did you do?"

"I died."

The whisper was so quiet that Raph would have missed it, had he not been unconsciously straining to hear it. As it was, he bolted forward and knelt down next to the bed. "Leo!" His voice was suddenly hoarse. The leader's eyes, strangely big without the mask around them, were open and slowly focusing on him. Their normally rich brown color was mottled and glassy, but he was _awake_. Raph felt like punching someone.

Then reality caught up with him. "What'cha mean, you died?"

"Mh." Leo's face twisted, and then twisted some more when his headache came back with vengeance. "I. I just." He did something with his hands, but they were hidden underneath the blankets and pinned to the mattress. His blinks were awkwardly long, and his eyelids were drooping. _He's slipping,_ Raph thought not without panic. Leo must have seen his expression, because the older ninja made an effort to keep his eyes open now.

"Don't... worry." He tried a smile. It looked wrong. Raph barely restrained himself from reaching out to shake it off of Leo. "I'll be fine... Just tired."

Raph nodded and leaned down until their foreheads almost touched when Leo's eyes closed again. His breathing evened out, but it was still raspy. From this close, Raph could sense the heat that was radiating off his brother. _Shell! What had Donnie said about that? Call him, he'd said_. Well, it seemed like the action here was over for now, anyway.

He walked to Mikey's room only to find his two remaining brothers huddled together on the bed, reading a comic book. _Geeks_, he thought in the Raph equivalent of affection when he knocked against the doorframe to gain their attention.

"He was up briefly," he announced and hated himself for the way their eyes lightened up already. "But he's out cold again. Well, not exactly. He's heatin' up," "And you might wanna whip out them antibiotics now, genius."

Don nodded and got up, with Mikey following suit. "All right. Get some ice. I'll have a look." He went past Raph and into the hallway while Raphael jogged down the stairs and into the kitchen. He was vaguely aware of Mikey following him but didn't acknowledge it until he chose a package of frozen peas from the freezer.

"No, take the mixed veggies."

Raph did so before he turned around and raised an eye ridge. Mikey shrugged. "I want to use them for dinner anyway," he said. "This way they can unfreeze."

"You're such an idiot," Raph said and gave him a friendly shove in passing. Mike stuck his tongue out at him. "Takes one to know one," he replied cheekily and then danced ahead up the stairs until they reached Leo's room.

_Just maybe,_ Raph thought while condensation left a wet trail behind him, _things are starting to look up._


	4. Hitting home

**AN: **_Aaand... it's monday again! Not much to say, except that Friday's update will most likely be either one day early or late. I'm moving soon and we have to meet up and get some things done beforehand. And then... D&D! Anyway, the cliffy's not too bad for now, and also: welcome, main character number 5! Great thanks to everyone who reviewed so far. Keep 'em going, guys!  
_

**Warning: **_Extra warning for blood in this chapter. Also, I apologize if I didn't get the infirmary scene right. I'm not a studied medic :3 But thinking about it, neither is Don..._

**Disclaimer: **_Nope. Don't own._

**Edit: **_Now beta-d!  
_

* * *

**HITTING HOME  
**

* * *

Miyamoto Usagiwas becoming concerned.

The black-clad ninjas had him cornered in what appeared to be a park. In the distance, giant houses were looming up, their windows alight with a yellow blaze that seemed too steady to be candle light. But down here between the trees, the darkness was almost touchable.

There was a lamp-post some way off. It was already flickering from when he'd crashed into it earlier. As he watched, the black steel of a shuriken glinted to his right and the light died with the harsh tinkle of glass on the ground and what looked like a lightning bolt.

The only reason he could see his enemies at all was that their clothes were even darker than the night around them. They reminded him of the assassins at the Battle Nexus, except that these were noisier. And not as skilled.

The rustle of cloth behind him caught his attention. With a swift turn, he placed a well-aimed kick into the advancing ninja's stomach and sent him flying against the nearest tree.

_Eleven down,_ he thought_. Now, who wants to be next..._

He had to keep on fighting for now. There was no way of knowing where the dimensional portal had sent him. All he knew was that he had been outnumbered by Neko ninja who were advancing at him from all sides. Then the blue glow of a portal had appeared out of nowhere and he'd just jumped through.

Sadly, that did not seem to have improved his situation by much.

"You can't escape, mutant scum!" The shout came from the left. Usagi took off one of his heavy-wooden sandals and threw it. It hit home with an audible crash as the attacker went down. While the samurai hobbled into that direction to receive his shoe, he reflected upon that insult. _Mutant. _That rang a bell.

_We're not Kame ninja. Where we come from, people like us are not the norm. We are mutations, mutants._

_This couldn't possibly be second Earth, Leonardo's home planet?_ He mused over that while he hit another ninja over the head with his shoe and pulled it back on. Then the sound of a sword leaving its sheath demanded his attention, and he spun around, facing his next attacker.

_Attackers,_ the ronin mentally corrected himself. He could make out at least five shapes in the dark, and the sound of hurried feet in the distance. _Reinforcements._ He gritted his teeth. The odds were against him, and he knew it. But there was no way he could escape. Where would he go?

He took a step back, closer to the line of the trees, and his shoes scraped over metal.

_Metal gratings, closing off the tunnels. They are hard to spot, but they can get you pretty much anywhere._

Well, anywhere was surely better than here. The ninja were advancing, slowly, no doubt grinning beneath their masks. _Playing with me like the infamous cat with the mouse_, Usagi thought grimly. There was no other option.

With a grunt, he gripped the metal grating and _pulled._ It was heavier than expected, but easy enough to get out of the ground. Something bounced off it and clattered off into the dark, and then he swung his arms in a wild arc, catching someone somewhere, dropped the plate, and lowered himself into the black circle that smelled of damp and water.

His feet found metal at the same time metal found him.

It took all his willpower not to yell when the shuriken caught his side, tore his clothing and buried itself deep into the soft flesh beneath. To use throwing stars in the black of night! How easily the ninja could have hit one of their own! His feet touched the ground and he took off at once, letting his nose lead him along what seemed to be a stream to his left. Every step sent pain up and down his side. Should he pull the weapon out while he was still down here? It didn't seem sanitary, and it would increase the bleeding. But he couldn't keep on walking like this.

The sensation of sudden emptiness signalled a parting side tunnel to his right, and Usagi slipped in and flattened himself against the wall. Sure enough, there were noises, but for now, they were far away and muffled. He pulled off his vest and pulled out the shuriken as slowly as possible. The pain made his eyes water. He used the weapon to tear his clothing apart and then used that as a makeshift bandage. It soaked through all too quickly. He needed to find some place safe.

In the distance, someone was whispering. There were multiple footsteps, coming in his direction.

Usagi toed off his shoes, picked them up and noiselessly broke into a jog.

***T*M*N*T***

Mikey was watching the news because Don had told him to. And Don was not in a mood he wanted to mess around with.

Seeing the genius in this state was always a bit scary. He was all calm and smiles, but there was a strange tension in his eyes, like his nerves were taut as a bow string. Even Raph did not argue with Don when he was in that mood. So Mikey was watching the news. There was supposed to be a storm later, and it was for some reason important to know when it hit NYC.

It was nine in the evening. Leo had woken up about an hour ago to the smell of chicken soup and garlic bread. He had even managed to eat a few bites. But Don did not allow him out of bed. He wasn't allowed to sit up, or read, or meditate. He was supposed to sleep. Of course, of all of them, Leo would be the one not to listen to angry Don. Raph had wisely retreated to the dojo where he took his time fixing his punching bag. _The sneaky bastard._

Michelangelo was bored enough to consider taking a brief nap when a sudden howl made him jump three feet into the air.

_The sewer alarm, _he thought, trying to calm his racing heart. _It's just the alarm._

Don came pounding down the steps and flicked the switch that turned off the howling. "What is it this time," he muttered and stomped off into his lab to have a look at the security camera screens. Mikey knew that at this time of night, they would only show green emptiness. He'd been sent out to fix their angle more than once, but tiny earthquakes and nosy sewer rats would dislodge them time and time again.

"It's probably just a rat," he called and forced his eyes back to the news feed_. Wait. Idea._ "But I'll go and check! Right away! Count on me!"

Don stuck his head through the door and frowned at him. "Not alone," he started to argue, but Raph was already there in the doorway of the dojo. "I'll accompany 'im! No worries! I'm right behind him!"

The genius gave them the sigh of the long-suffering along with the benefit of the doubt. "Oh, fine then. Go. Report back within the next hour or I'll come and kick your sorry shells into the next century."

Seconds later, the door panel slid closed after his brothers.

***T*M*N*T***

Usagi was tired.

He was bleeding and only half-lucid with the pain. His breath came in short gasps. Everything around him reeked of dirt and damp, and he would surely get an infection, but he needed to catch his breath, _just for a moment..._

There were footsteps, coming closer. His sensitive ears picked up low muttering. More ninja?

He fumbled with the hilt of his katana. Suddenly the weapon seemed too heavy to draw. _Maybe after he had a short rest. But he had to fight. He needed to..._ sit down, apparently. Good. That was a good idea. Maybe they would pass him by...

He caught a flash of green, but then the blackness claimed him and he slipped. The word he had intended to say died away on his lips.

***T*M*N*T***

Raph was not in a good mood when they got back to the Lair.

Mikey had convinced him- _how did he always manage it?_- to carry the wounded rabbit they found in the sewers back to their home. By now his arms were sore, loose fur tickled in his nose, and to top it all off the stranger was bleeding on him. All the while Mikey was just a few feet behind him, muttering to himself while he examined the weapons and blood-stained shreds of fabric their newest house guest had with him.

The door to the lair opened with a barely hiss and they stepped through into the warmth. It was chilly outside this time of the year. _No wonder Leo got a fever,_ Raph thought as he picked his way through the usual clutter of chairs, books and video games towards the door of the Lab.

"Donnie!"

The genius turtle came out of Leo's room at the sound and leaned over the railing on the first floor to look down at them. "What?" he snapped, visibly annoyed. Then he caught sight of the white bundle in Raph's arms and his chocolate brown eyes widened.

"Usagi?!"

Raphael did not drop the rabbit at the sound of the name, but it was a close thing. He managed to contain himself until the wounded warrior was placed safely on a stainless steel table in Donatello's lab, which also served as an infirmary in times of need. Then the dam broke.

"This! This is Usagi! That guy everybody keeps talking about!"

Mikey peeked over his shoulder, trying to get a glance at Usagi while Donatello was removing the makeshift bandages. They were soaked dark with blood that had already started to clot. Without looking up, the self-assigned medic handed the strips of fabric over to Raph and leaned in to examine the wound. "Mikey, go look after Leo," he muttered, clearly no longer listening.

With a theatrical sigh, the youngest complied. "Fine," he mumbled. "'Cause I am squeamish and all. It's not like Raph's the one who's afraid of needles..."

He dashed out of the room before the hotheaded brother could make a reply.

"Raph, I know you want to shower, but could you stick with me for another while and help me out while I fix this?" Don never said '_heal' _or_ 'stitch up'. _He always said _'fix this'_. Donatello could detach himself from the person behind the wound in a way that Raph, quite frankly, admired. He suspected it made things easier in case of a loss. Thankfully, they had yet to prove that theory right.

"Sure." He stepped closer. "What'o I do?"

"First thing, move out of the light," Don muttered absent mindedly. "Thanks. Hand me some clippers. Left table, lower drawer, the smaller ones."

Raph found the small scissors and handed them over. He made sure not to block any light sources while he watched as Donnie meticulously clipped away the stained fur around the wound. Then the younger turtle cleaned his hands on the small wash basin at the far wall and disinfected them before handing the small bottle of antiseptic spray to Raph.

"Here. Clean your hands, and then keep the wound open and free of fur while I clean it."

Wordlessly, Raphael followed the instructions. The wound had looked bad from where it had bled on him, but up this close and with everything else out of the way, it was much worse. He could see different layers of muscle tissue torn right down to the bone, already glistening in a sick red again where the tiny veins and arteries were cut.

"Doesn't seem like any organs are injured," Don continued quietly. "Kidneys are okay, that's a relief... I say, let's stitch this up and then see if we can find out his blood type so we can hook him up on something..."

He rummaged around on his desk and came back with a cotton ball and a kind of antibiotic cream. Raph sprayed some of the disinfectant onto the wound and watched in wonder as the muscles around it contracted at the sensation. Then Don's fingers, surprisingly gentle and nimble for someone with such a giant handicap, came into view. Slowly but steadily, he stitched the wound closed. Then he inserted a small drain, smeared a thick layer of cream over the neat row of thread and wiped his hands on a piece of bed linen.

Just like that, they were done.

"You might wanna sit down," Raph suggested with an uneasy glance at Don's pale face. Don sat where he stood, which meant he collapsed heavily onto the floor. Already, he was shaking.

Raph wasn't sure he was up for this the second time today. "Uh, it's fine. Ya did good. He looks all okay to me," he lied. In fact, the rabbit - _Usagi, _he mentally corrected himself - did not look one bit _okay_, but he'd be damned if he said that out loud.

"Yeah, right." Don snorted. He got up and took a deep, steadying breath. "Now let's see about his blood type. I got enough samples of that at least. You watch him." With that, he took the blood-stained cloth and his stitching material back to one of his work tables and busied himself with a microscope.

"Watch him," Raph groaned. "Watch for _what_? Like Leo's not enough of a handful..."

***T*M*N*T***

Upstairs, things had gone pearshaped in the space of five seconds after Mikey had entered the room.

To sum things up, Leo had been half-lucid and talking to himself. So Mikey had jumped over to meet him, a grin on his face. Mistake number one was that he did not take the time to listen to the actual words that were being said. Mistake number two was: never, ever jump a delirious ninja who has spent the last seventeen years of his life training martial arts.

Sadly, it had taken his oldest brother no time at all to wrestle him right to the ground and continue to strangle him. The grip was not too tight, but somehow Mikey found it impossible to break it. Underneath the feverish skin, Leonardo's muscles were like steel bands.

"Leo! Let go!" Mikey croaked, punctuating his words with weak blows against the leader's plastron. Leo's eyes were rimmed red and the heat rolled off of him in waves. With a start Mikey realized that wherever the older turtle thought he was, it was definitely not _home_.

"I will show you what happens when you attack my family," the grass-green turtle hissed and then momentarily loosened his grip while he heaved through a coughing fit. Mikey started to actually get concerned.

"Raph," he shouted through the open door and when he didn't get a reply, he called again, louder, _"Raph!"_

Downstairs, Raphael's head snapped up at the sound of his name. Don, who was currently examining Usagi's torso for signs of broken bones, waved him away impatiently. "Go. Get him to shut up."

The family engineer pretended not to see the evil grin that spread on his brother's face while he waited for one of his devices to figure out Usagi's blood type. The way things were going, and they were not going too well as it was, he really couldn't spare brain capacity for whatever nonsense Mikey was thinking up.

Raph made his way upstairs with as much speed as he was able to wrestle from his tired legs. The sight that greeted him when he entered the darkened room was one he had certainly not expected: Mikey lay slumped half on top of their eldest brother, breathing heavily, while Leo was sprawled on the ground, seemingly passed out from exhaustion.

Without much thought, Raph gripped his youngest brother by the shell and threw him through the open doorway. With a yelp, Mikey crashed shell-first into the railing and dropped to his knees.

"Raph! Calm down! I didn't do anything- oh no..."

Before Raph could react, a stick hit him around the head from behind and he dropped like a sack of bricks.

Mikey stared in disbelief at Leo, who was currently holding on to one of their old training staffs like a life line. The older turtle was shaking, his eyes unfocused but slowly trailing down to the slumped figure on the ground before him.

_He wanted to protect me, _Mikey thought with an air of unreality, and in that moment he was insanely thankful that Leo _never, ever_ aimed to kill but as a last resort, when all else had failed. Raph would be okay. Okay with a headache, but okay. That was... good.

"Leo," he spoke when it became painfully obvious that the self-confident leader had reached the end of his rope. His brown eyes were wide with confusion. Mikey pulled himself up on the railing, preparing to stare the eldest down- or tackle him to the ground again, should the need arise. Or at least he intended to do just that, right until the battered metal gave way under his hand and he felt himself tilt backwards in no position to regain his balance.

_Oh, shell-_

The sensation of betrayal was the worst of it. There was _supposed_ to be a railing here, but suddenly it _wasn't,_ and now he was falling, tumbling; his eyes squeezed shut and a scream tore at his throat. It wasn't even a great distance to the floor. He guessed that Leo fell harder. Hell, they all jumped down from the second floor as a daily exercise. For some reason, those thoughts did nothing to comfort him.

Then his upper right arm slammed into the gallery bricks, his head scraped against stone, and he felt like someone had tried to rip his shoulder out of its socket and succeeded.

He opened his eyes to find Leo's face inches from his own. The older turtle had a death grip on his arm, holding himself up with the other clawed around the remaining metal bars of the railing. He was breathing heavily, but his face showed nothing but determination. His cheeks were mottled with fever, he still smelled like a sewer, and Mikey thought that he had surely never seen anything this beautiful in his life.

Then Leo's eyes glazed over.

"Oh no. _No no no_, Leo, let go, I can manage from here- _stay with us,_ bro! Oh, _shell..._"

Desperately, Mikey tried to swing up to get a handle on things with his free hand. It was no use. He was slipping, but not from Leo's vice-like grip on his arm; more likely, the older turtle couldn't hold them both up anymore. They were _both_ going to drop. And there was no way Mikey would be able to land on his feet _and_ catch his brother.

"Let 'm go, Leo."

Raph's deep voice washed over them and Leo's eyes widened. He clenched his teeth and Mikey clenched his in a joined effort not to scream; then a dark green hand brushed over a grass green one and Raph's face appeared next to Leo's.

"Trust me," he said. "Just let 'm go. Bad weeds grow tall." He smirked at Mikey who was staring at him incredulously.

"Raph, you're _such_ an-"

Then Leo let go.


	5. Catching up

**AN:** _Hey everyone! I don't have much time, but I didn't want to deny you Friday's update. Here you go. Please note: unbeta-d as of now, blood, yadda, yadda, have fun. I love you all. The sudden flood of reviews nearly made me cry._

**Disclaimer:** _I own the 2007 CGI DVD, does that count?_

__**Edit:** _Now beta-d by the incredible PlainSimpleGarak. Any mistakes that remain are solely my own.  
_

* * *

**CATCHING UP**

* * *

Mikey landed on the living room floor in a crouch, deflecting the impact easily. Upstairs, he could hear the shuffle of footsteps as Raph carried his brother back to bed. Mikey would've teased the older turtle for it, but this was not the time. Frankly, he was at a loss. Was he supposed to be thankful for what just happened? Or angry at Raph for making Leo drop him like that?

There wasn't anything he could do about that now. He grimaced as he stood up and massaged his abused arm, and then he went into the kitchen to see if they had any soup left.

***T*M*N*T***

"Raph," Leo rasped and gripped his brother's arms as he was lowered into the bed. "Raph." He tried to focus on the face in front of him and failed miserably. His vision was swimming. _He was at the Nexus in the Underground City on a Ship in the Mountains in the Old Lair in his Bedroom_, everything vivid and brutally colorful, and _which one was real_? Every new setting held greater pains than the last. He was reasonably sure that he had not just dropped Mikey down into a canyon littered with green crystal shards, but he had to be _certain_. "Raph..."

"Sssh. Sleep. You're safe with us at home, now get some rest." Raph reached out as if to touch his brother's face and then thought better of it. Leo's gaze followed his hand, completely transfixed on it. There was still blood under his nails and all over his legs.

"I need to shower", Raph explained quietly. "But everyone's outside, so yell if ya need anything."

Leonardo's nostrils flared for a moment, but his eyes were already closing. "'M not tired", he mumbled. Raph grinned when, only moments later, soft snores were erupting from his brother's mouth.

"Sure ya ain't, fearless", he muttered and turned to leave. As he closed the door behind him, his ears picked up a soft whisper from inside. He wrote it off to his imagination and dashed for the bathroom before Mikey could block it.

Inside, Leo shifted on his sheets.

"'M not fear…"

***T*M*N*T***

Mikey was crying into his soup.

He only realized it when he moved the spoon up to his face to taste the food and found that his fingers were wet. That was unusual. None of them cried much anymore, but after all that had happened... right now everything was supposed to go back to normal. The time for crying had been- he glanced at the clock- about nine hours ago. Maybe this was the final crash after the adrenaline surge.

Never being one to dwell on negative feelings, he quickly wiped his eyes and shook himself out of it. Then he went back to cooking.

***T*M*N*T***_  
_

_[IN]  
He left me._

_[OUT]  
No, he wouldn't do that._

_[IN]  
It wasn't his choice. He died._

_[OUT]  
That doesn't sound right._

_[IN]  
We never found a corpse, just bits and pieces._

_[OUT]  
No. Stop. That never happened._

_[IN]  
The light was reflecting off dark sunglasses when we came too late._

_[OUT]  
What?_

_[IN]  
Everything hurts. What is real?_

_[OUT]  
Just keep breathing._

***T*M*N*T***_  
_

It was a simple process of elimination. That was, of differing between _certain_ and _probable_ death. But still, elimination.

By now Don was reasonably sure that Usagi's blood type equaled 0+. That meant that Leo's blood should be compatible, and so should Mikey's.

Both Don himself and Raph had B+. There was no way Don could use that on the ronin. Luckily, Leo's blood was available in large quantities. Don really didn't feel like approaching Mikey with a needle right now. Leo made sure they always had packages in store; he "donated" blood regularly, seeing as 0 was compatible with pretty much everything.

The only remaining question was: How likely would the mutagens in their blood kill a naturally evolved being like Usagi?

Don had placed several petri dishes on the desk in front of him and was busily studying the reactions of Usagi's blood when it came into contact with Leo's. The way things were going, he didn't have much of a choice. He'd put a drain into the wound so that it wouldn't keep bleeding under the stitches, and he had the samurai warrior hooked up to a saline drip, but he needed something more... _substantial_. And he needed it fast.

So far, things were looking good in the dishes. No time for a long-term study. Well, no time like the present, as the saying goes. With a sigh, Don stood up and walked over to the giant cooler they once "salvaged" from a hospital. He opened one of the drawers and pulled out a package of 0+.

"Yankee Doodle went to town, a-riding on a pony..." He hummed under his breath while he ran his thumb over Usagi's arm to find the veins. Then he inserted the needle and hooked it up on the blood package which he hung next to the saline solution.

"Stuck a feather in his cap... and called it... maccaroni..." He adjusted the dripping sequence of both bags and stepped back to admire his work. "There. All set up." A glance at his desk showed him that the Leo-blood had yet to kill off the Usagi-blood. Well. It was a start. Nothing much he could do now but keep the samurai warm and soup at the ready.

With a sigh, Don settled into one of his chairs and picked up a random book from the stacks on the floor.

***T*M*N*T***

Leonardo woke with a start. Adrenaline surged through his body before he even opened his eyes. _Where was the danger?_ But his room was dark and silent. _His room_, with the smell of sandalwood to overpower the mold and the faint tang of blood that seemed to follow him wherever he went.

_Safety._

His alarm clock told him it was five in the morning of the next day. He couldn't remember when he had last slept that long. From what he remembered, it had been barely ten in the evening when... Raph had carried him to bed...

That didn't sound right. _Why would Raph..._

His shoulder twinged slightly when he set his feet down and tried to stand up. He was still feeling dizzy, but the faint nausea disappeared after a few steps. _Water_. He needed something to drink.

Something kept nagging at him. Something about his brothers. There were supposed to be four of them total, weren't there? He had a brief memory of metal pipes and the swords of enemies glinting in the moonlight. No, he was sure. There were four of them. And sensei, of course. Nobody died yet. _Not on his watch._

He checked the cupboards once he was in the kitchen, just to be certain. Sure enough, their respective favorite mugs occupied the front row- the slightly chipped striped one Don loved his coffee in, and the big bowl-like one Splinter drank his tea from, and the one with the race cars that nobody dared to make fun of Raph for, and Mikey's, with one of his own drawings on it in black marker...

For a second Leo panicked when he couldn't find _his own_ mug right away. But there it was, half-way hidden behind a box of tea leaves. It was black and shiny, but the bottom of it was a clear blue that always startled him when he finished his drinks. He took it out of the cupboard. Then he filled the kettle and prepared some tea for himself.

The way the well-known ritual calmed his mind, the smell of chamomile and spice calmed his nerves. Things were _fine_. Everyone was asleep, but in a few hours, they could all eat breakfast together before training.

_They are probably going to make fun of me for falling down a manhole,_ Leo mused and took a sip of his tea. Then he frowned. _Why did I fall down a manhole?_

Something dark in the corner of his mind opened its eyes and growled. Leo shrank back from the thought as if it had burned him and accidentally spilt some tea on his fingers in the process.

_Right. That was... not weird at all._ He let some cold water run over the burn and picked up his mug on the way out of the kitchen. He was about to go back upstairs when he noticed light was spilling out from under the door of Don's lab.

_Oh no, Donnie, we talked about your all-nighters..._

With a groan only barely stifled by a sip of tea, Leo strolled over to Don's lab and cautiously opened the door. Sure enough, the room was still alight. But he could see his brother, slumped in a chair, obviously asleep. A book was open in his lap, threatening to slip to the floor.

Leo rolled his eyes and opened the door fully. He picked up the book, remembered the page and closed it with an audible snap. Donatello's eyes fluttered open at the sound.

"Wha… Leo? You're... awake..." He yawned and stretched, wincing as several joints popped back into place. "I fell asleep?" Then his brown eyes widened. "Shell! I fell asleep!"

He jolted up from where he was sitting and past Leo, who looked at him in bewilderment. _What had gotten into... his... brother..._

His train of thought momentarily derailed at the sight of Miyamoto Usagi, lying on one of the infirmary beds with an empty IV attached to his arm.

His shirt was missing, and so was his headband, causing his ears to flop down around his sleeping face. He looked tense even unconscious, coiled, his muscles standing out against the short white fur that covered his body. There were bandages wrapped tightly around his stomach which Donatello was currently prodding, but Leo found his eyes trailing back up the lean-muscled torso and to the face of his friend.

Reality caught up with him.

"What is Usagi doing here, Don?" He asked in what he hoped was a perfectly calm demeanor.

"Oh, Raph and Mikey found him in the sewers," Don replied absently, apparently taking great interest in Usagi's side. Usually, Leo found it endearing how un-self-conscious his brother was when he completely concentrated on something. Right now it grated on his nerves. He stepped around the bed to have a closer look and immediately tensed when he saw the angry red gash that ran along his friend's side.

"What happened?!"

"Don't know," Don muttered. "I hooked him up to some pretty strong pain meds, but he should wake up soon anyway if he is anything like you. We can ask him then." Apparently satisfied with what he was seeing, though Leo could not for the life of him figure out why, the medic of the family straightened up and refastened the bandages over the wound. Then he looked at the clock on the wall and sighed.

"Might as well wake the others," he said. "God, I could use a coffee right now."

"Not before you've eaten," Leo said automatically.

Don's face split into a grin as he walked past. "Glad to see you're back, bro."

"Yeah", Leo replied, his eyes back on Usagi. There was a scar on the ronin's face that he had never noticed before. Here, in the white neon light, it stood out like a silver line, right above his left eye. It was obviously old, almost faded. Leonardo wondered how Usagi had gotten it.

"Me too." When he drained the rest of his tea from the mug, it was already cold.


	6. Cleaning up

**AN:** _I was actually afraid I wouldn't make it in time for the Monday update! But here we go, fully beta-d and ready to rock. Any mistakes that remain are fully my own. I think I told you last time, but I am currently in the middle of moving. Should any updates be late, I apologize beforehand. Also, work. Ugh._

_To those who replied: Thank you so, so much. I don't have time to reply properly right now, so I'll just save you some space up here. **Elphaba**- you know you're amazing. **NJ7009**- I'm glad I came around and that you like what you're reading now! It made me so happy to read your latest reviews! Thanks a lot! **Elileo**- ngh, thanks! x3 **Bubbly**- well you know I adore you already, but it made me squeal to see you dropped by and took the time to read. And last but not least, **binditheskunk**: Thanks for reading, I am glad you like it! To answer your question: I am currently updating every Monday and Friday. However, I am almost at the end of my pre-written chapters and I might have to reduce my updates to once a week once Uni starts. We'll see in time. _

_And um... sorry, but your question made me grin. I haven't used the term "yaoi" for so long I almost forgot about it. Let's just say it's a surprise, all right?  
_

**Disclaimer:** _Who am I even kidding here?_

* * *

**CLEANING UP**

* * *

_"Leo!"_

Mikey practically bounced down the stairs and threw himself at his brother in a full-body embrace. "We were so worried! Like, Raph was all cuddly and Don was all strange and I was all sad and we all..."

"I get the basic picture, thank you," Leo said with a smile and detached himself from the youngest. "I'm glad to be back, too." He threw a cautious glance at Raph, who gave him a shrug in response. "Nice of ya to show up again, y'know, not hallucinatin'," he grumbled and looked away quickly. His amber eyes were dark with fatigue, and Leo wondered idly what his brother had been up to all night.

"Oh! Oh, Leo, I almost forgot!" Mikey interrupted him before he could make too much of Raph's words. He let the orange-wearing turtle pull him over to the sofa table to have a look at "something really important".

Usagi's swords were lying on the cleared glass surface, their sheaths and handles spotted brown and grey with dust and blood.

"We didn't know what to do with them," Mikey explained behind him. "I mean, can we just clean them? Are we allowed to touch them?"

It was a curious thing, the bond between a warrior and his weapons. They were like comrades in battle, the only thing you could safely rely on. Some said that the blades and stave had their own souls, ones that you should honor by keeping the edges sharp and the surfaces smooth. It had been right of the others not to touch them; but seeing the blades like this_- seeing them stained_- seemed worse in comparison.

"I'll clean them," Leo heard himself say, as if from a great distance. "He probably won't mind me handling them."

"Yeah," Mikey replied with obvious relief. "That's what I thought."

Leo picked up the swords with great care. The longer katana and the shorter wakizashi sword were perfectly balanced. He carried them into the dojo, sat down next to the weapon rack where they all stored their training weapons and selected some polish from their supplies.

The hilts were wrapped in soft green and black leather straps, not unlike the ones on his own swords. Leo couldn't help but notice that these looked newer. They were recently replaced; probably a result of too much use. He reminded himself that Usagi had been a skilled warrior long before any of the turtles had even picked their weapons. It drove a shudder down his spine to imagine what caused him to end up in their infirmary.

_It must have been a far superior enemy_, he thought by himself as he ran a soft cloth down the length of the katana's black sheath. _That, or... an ambush._

Suddenly, he had quite a good idea what might have caused all this. Or rather, _who._

He locked those thoughts away for later inspection and instead concentrated on the work at hand. Soon the sword sheaths gleamed in the soft light that spilled in through the dojo's domed ceiling, and the handles were spotless.

He didn't draw the swords. That would have been a definite invasion of Usagi's privacy. Besides, if he knew _anything_ for certain, it was that the blades themselves were razor-edged and sparkling.

He didn't notice how much time had passed with him simply staring at the weapons in front of him until the paper doors slid aside and Mikey poked his head in. "Hey bro. Breakfast's ready," he called softly. Leo nodded and rose, picking up the swords and carrying them into the infirmary, where he placed them on the chair next to the bed before he followed the smell of bacon and eggs into the kitchen.

***T*M*N*T***

When Miyamoto Usagi woke up, he immediately knew he was drugged: Even though he could barely move, it didn't bother him much.

He looked around with bleary eyes. He was in a room, in a bed raised off the ground. Not a futon bed, then. He blinked at the brightness of the strange light source that shone off the ceiling; it seemed to burn without candles and hurt his eyes when he looked at it for too long.

There were tubes running down his side, leading from two empty transparent bags on a metal stand down to his arm. There were bandages over the point where they ended. He unraveled them to reveal two needles that had been stuck into his arm.

_Drugs_, his mind insisted. With a grimace, the ronin pulled the two needles out and pressed down on the entry points with a clean piece of linen until they stopped bleeding.

There was another bandage covering his side. Slowly, the memory of a battle came back to him. _He had been wounded, but someone had tended it_. Usagi decided to leave these wrappings where they were for now. Instead, he carefully swung his legs off the side of the bed, took a deep breath and stood up.

The pain was there, but manageable. He was still shirtless and his white fur was stained in places; but there was nothing for it. He could clean up later. For now, he needed to find out who had taken him hostage- or offered him their hospitality. It was amazing how close these two had proven to be in the past.

His swords were lying on a chair next to the bed. He picked them up gingerly and ran a hand over the sheaths. Someone had cleaned them; they shone in the harsh white light as if they were ready to bite. They, just like him, had been taken care of. He could feel it in his bones as the soft leather wrappings melted into his grip like extended limbs.

_Not captured, then_. He put his weapons back for now. He could always come back to them later.

The room, now that he concentrated on it, was a strange kind of mess. One half of it, in which he was currently located, was clean to the point of spotless and smelled sterile. It held mostly metal shelves and drawers. But, as if someone had been following an invisible line on the ground, the other half of the room was_... untidy_. Not dirty, but cluttered with metal pieces and tools he did not know the name of, stacks of books and papers and humming, beeping... _machines_.

There was a photo frame on one of the tables. Usagi walked over to it and picked the wooden frame up with careful hands. Behind a thin sheet of glass, seven faces were grinning back at him.

Two humans, a humanoid rat, and four kame ninja.

_No, not kame, _he reminded himself. _Just turtles._

_Ah._

***T*M*N*T***

"Yes, we will," Leo said defiantly and crossed his arms over his plastron. He was looking sternly at his assembled brothers.

Mikey groaned. Don drawled out a sigh. And Raph...

"Get da stick outta your _shell, _fearless. 'S not like sensei is here to watch us." He pronounced the word _shell_ like someone else would pronounce... well, something _vulgar_.

Leo's eyes narrowed. "And that means we should neglect our training _because_..?"

"You shouldn't exercise too much just yet", Don chimed in. "You had a nasty concussion and a bad fever mere hours ago, remember?"

"Yeah, an' speaking of concussions," Raph said nastily, "let's not forget that _you_ knocked me _senseless_ last night. From behind. With a stick. To the head." He leaned sideways to show the ugly bruise that currently adorned his left temple.

Leo shrank back from it. "That was an accident," he muttered apologetically. "I _did_ have a fever." His shoulders slumped in defeat. "Fine then. Take the day off."

"You, too." This time it was Don's turn to look sternly at his brother who shrugged and refused to meet his eyes.

"Yes. Whatever. Fine."

***T*M*N*T***

When it became clear that his vest was gone for good, Usagi brushed himself off the best he could without straining his wound, put on his earband and left the room in search of the turtles.

He found himself in the main room of the lair. The circular pool in the middle of the den glittered in the sun that was streaming through windows high up in the ceiling. His eyes were drawn to the TV screens showing different news channels. He was momentarily mesmerized. Moving pictures in a box! Light without fire! Third Earth truly was a magnificent place.

The smell of sizzling meat and warm bread hung heavily in the air, but when he found the kitchen, it was already empty. His stomach growled as he slunk back. He was not ready to rummage through the turtles' kitchen shelves just yet.

He was aware that he was shuffling. There was no helping it. Whatever drugs he had been on up to now were clearly wearing off. Usagi risked a glance at his side while he leaned against a pillar to catch his breath. What he found was an angry red gash, but expertly stitched. It was longer than he had anticipated- _the shuriken had not been that big_- but not as deep as he had feared. Someone had smeared a sort of ointment on it that kept it from itching. Obviously, he was in good hands.

He pushed off the pillar and stumbled over to the staircase. Maybe he could find someone upstairs.

He didn't need to go that far. Before he had even set foot on the first step, a door opened and someone flipped over the railing.

The turtle landed in a crouch, righted himself and stretched his arms. He was wearing a red mask and sported a rich, dark green skin color. Usagi had seen him before, at the Battle Nexus Tournament, if only for a moment.

_This must be Raphael,_ he thought. As politely as possible, he cleared his throat.

The turtle spun around, hands up in an aggressive defense stance. He was taller than Leonardo or Donatello, bulkier, and his arms were littered with scars that shone in the morning light. _A close-range fighter_, Usagi thought and found his theory proven right when he caught sight of the sai handles that protruded from Raphael's belt. _A protector, too._

"Hello," he said and bowed as much as his wound allowed. "I am Miyamoto Usagi. I do not believe we have been properly introduced."

"Uh," the turtle answered and lowered his hands. "Right. Raphael. Hi." Then his eyes widened. "You're awake! Hey! Leo! Guys! Your pet bunny's up!"

He shouted the last words, causing Usagi to flinch and frown at him. _Pet bunny? _Raphael had already turned back to him, an apologetic smile on his face. "Just teasin' em. No offense."

"None taken", the samurai replied cautiously. He was about to add more when the paper doors that he had noticed earlier slipped aside and Leonardo stepped into the hall.

He was just the way Usagi remembered him: Grass green skin, brown eyes behind a light blue mask that matched the leather around the katana hilts protruding from his back. His face lit up when he saw his friend stand next to the staircase.

"Usagi-san! I was so worried…"

"Leonardo! _What_ were you doing in the dojo?"

That was Donatello's voice, coming from upstairs. He was leaning over the metal railing of the first floor, his dark brown eyes fixed on Leo's face which was currently a mix of relief and guilt. "Uh," he said sheepishly. "I was. Um. Sharpening my katana?"

A second turtle appeared in the doorway and squeezed past his brother. He was smaller and leaner, with an orange mask that sharply contrasted his dark blue-green skin. His eyes were blue and shining bright with mischief. "You are sooo busted!" He sung while he danced across the brick floor until he reached a door at the end of the hall. He waved at Usagi in passing before slamming the door behind him. A moment later, Usagi could hear water running.

He straightened when he realized who he had just seen. "That was Michelangelo," he said to no one in particular. "The Battle Nexus champion!"

Raphael groaned and for an unknown reason proceeded to slam his head into the nearest pillar. Repeatedly.

Leonardo was trying to creep away from the doors and in the direction of what the ronin assumed was the bathroom. Donatello, however, was already stomping down the stairs with far more force than necessary. "Hamato Leonardo, you will stop_ right there_! Hello, Usagi-san, good to see you awake, you should really lay down- _oh no_, you're _not_ getting away with this! I told you to pause training today! I_ told_ you! You _agreed_!"

The olive-skinned turtle rushed past Usagi and cornered his brother half-way to the bathroom, where he squared his shoulders and poked Leonardo repeatedly in the chest.

"I wasn't training! Not really! I was just… going through an old kata! An easy one, I swear!"

"With a concussion and fever?!" Donatello's arms slumped down to his sides. "I'm just worried," he muttered. With amusement, Usagi noted that Leonardo broke down almost instantly.

"I'm sorry, Don. I'll take it easy from now on. I promise."

"All right," Donatello muttered and turned around. "Now show our guest here the upstairs bathroom while I try to find some food in this house." Only now he seemed to properly register the rabbit warrior, who was still standing by the staircase. He bowed, quickly followed by Leonardo. "Are you sure you'll be okay, running around already?"

Usagi shrugged his shoulders. "Time will tell," he replied. He didn't know whether to be amused or irritated by what had just taken place. A normal ninja clan member would never speak up to their leader like that- but then, they weren't a normal clan. They were all family, he reminded himself. Things were different here.

"Right. Come on, Usagi, I'll show you the way."

The samurai managed about a quarter of the stairs on his own before his side started to throb and he had to take a break and catch his breath. Leonardo was by his side in seconds.

"Here. Let me help you." He slung one of Usagi's arms over his shoulders and supported his weight for the rest of the way. Usagi leaned against him when it became clear he was not capable of getting to the top on his own. There was a time for pride, he reflected, and a time when you should just shut up and accept other people's help. Clearly, these times fell into the latter category.

"Thank you," he said when they reached the wooden door that led into the bathroom. Leonardo opened it for him. Inside, the room was tiled white and held what must obviously be the toilet, along with a glass stand that Leonardo explained to be the shower.

"Towels are in here," he said and pointed to a drawer underneath the wash basin. "I'll go and fetch you some clothes. If you drop yours in front of the door, we will have them clean in no time." He briefly dissappeared while Usagi tried to figure out the way the shower worked; when Leo returned, he was carrying a grey T-Shirt and jogging bottoms.

"Those might be a bit wide," the turtle said, feeling suddenly and inexplicably nervous. There was something about seeing Usagi topless like that that unnerved him. "Uh. I'll just put them here." He balanced the stack of clothes on the wash basin. "Oh, yes, left is cold, right is hot, and hot is scalding, so watch that… Um… I'm sure sensei won't mind you using his shampoo, just be careful with your wound so you won't aggravate it. I'll… see you when you're done. Just call if you need anything."

Usagi waited politely while Leonardo muttered his way out of the room and closed the door behind him. Then he opened the aforementioned drawer to find a stack of colorful towels that were fluffy enough to stick to his fur. He stripped and put the remains of his stained clothes into the hallway in a neat stack before he stepped into the shower and turned one of the little wheels.

Left is cold, right is hot…

He turned it all the way to the right and almost yelped when the scalding water hit him. It felt heavenly to be clean again after what felt like ages, and he lost himself standing in the beam where the water beat down on him in a million droplets and pearled down his fur.


	7. Settling in

**AN: **_Oh my goodness. Guys. You are wonderful. The most wonderful reviewers of all times. Thank you all so much for your support. More's the pity that from now on I'll be "live-posting" my stuff. Therefore I won't be able to keep up two updates a week. To sum it all up: Moving this weekend, possibility of no internet (though I'll hope for the best), university starts next week, still have a throat infection... yadda yadda. In short, I will update every Friday until further notice. Thanks for your understanding._**  
**

_Currently un-beta-d.  
_

_**Elphaba- **I almost cried. Tears of joy. Yay me. **NJ7009 and binditheskunk- **I will try and clear things up here. ***SPOILERS*** This will be a Leo/Usagi romance. It will not contain anything more graphic or explicit. It will not contain any "yaoi". It might contain the usual couple-crap later on, which is basically holding hands, midnight talks and snogging each other senseless on the sofa. Let us please not forget that Leo is still a teenager who (attention, my headcanon coming your way here) has no experience with love whatsoever. So there. Sorry if that disappoints anyone, but them being a couple is not the main plot of the story (though it is the second-biggest plot point, cough, cough). ***END SPOILERS***  
_

**Warning: **_We're going to take a dive into the... more supernatural here. Hopefully it will keep things interesting. Also, bits of brotherly fluff._

* * *

**SETTLING IN**

* * *

_He had been walking along the riverside for a day now and still hadn't found a way to cross it. The water rushed past in an endless, brown stream, far too wide to even consider jumping and with a current that would turn swimming into a deadly trap._

_Still, he needed to get to the other side._

_There was a village nearby, he knew. It was possible that they had a way to cross the stream, by means of a bridge or stepping stones or even a boat. But it was dangerous to go there. The locals were observant. They knew about the dangers of the jungle and kept an eye on it._

_There didn't seem to be a choice. He needed to get across, and he needed to do it now._

_There had been paths, openings between the trees, places where the water ran shallow or past small islands of drift wood and stone. They had all been blocked. Small bombs, smoke pellets and bear traps had only been a fraction of a bigger mousetrap. It seemed like the village was the only way._

_Someone did not want him to get past the river._

_At least now he knew for certain that he had found the place he had been looking for._

***T*M*N*T***

"I need food," Mikey announced and flopped down heavily on the sofa.

"We've just eaten, Mikey." Leo sighed and cast another glance at the upstairs bathroom. The water had stopped running through the pipes along the walls some time ago. He mentally debated whether it was a good idea to go and check up on Usagi, or just plain creepy.

"Creepy," Raph muttered almost inaudibly in response to his thoughts. Leo flinched guiltily before his expression became carefully guarded again. He knew it wouldn't fool his brother. Raphael had had the last seventeen years of their lives to get to know his face, and he'd done a damn good job, too. They had always been inseparable. Sometimes Leo thought that he probably knew the hothead's battered head better than his own, and he was perfectly aware that it worked both ways.

"No, we haven't," Mikey groaned. He seemed completely oblivious to what was taking place around him. "Breakfast was, like, two hours ago, dude." He batted his eyes at Leo who scoffed at him in return. "Food, Leo! You know you want food! _Food_…"

"Cut the crap, Mike." Raph got up and cleared the coffee table in one jump. "I'm gonna check up on Donnie."

"Yeah, sure," Leo muttered and managed what he hoped was another sneaky sideways glance at the bathroom door.

"Still creepy!" Raph shouted and laughed when Leo flipped a finger at him before he entered the infirmary. The room was the usual mess of tubes and pipes and beeping machines. Raph never quite understood what kept Donatello in the semidarkness for days. He thought it was creepy. It reminded him of Bishop's government labs. All that was missing were a couple of glass apparatuses with a colorful bubbling liquid in it, and the stage was set for Frankenstein.

Of course, Donnie probably didn't just know how the mad doctor F had done it, but he'd already figured out a way to do it better as well.

"Knock, knock," he said when Don didn't move from his chair.

"Who's there." Don's voice was flat. He kept his eyes fixed on a couple of glass dishes in front of him. They seemed to hold rust stains. Raph's stomach did a flip when he realized it was dried blood.

"'S just me. Never mind. What are you up to? Anything interesting?"

"I don't know." Don slumped forwards and rested his head on his arms. "Do you ever feel like you could do anything, if only the environment was different?" His voice was muffled by his arms. Raph stepped closer to where his brother was sitting while he tried to figure out what he meant.

"You need better equipment?" He finally guessed. Don nodded glumly, not taking his eyes off the petri dishes. "Yeah. I have all the brains to figure this one out, you know? But I don't have the _means_." He sounded incredibly frustrated. Raph suddenly felt sorry for him. "I just want to make sure, _really_ sure, that Usagi will not just suddenly drop dead because I shot him up with poisonous mutagen."

"It's a bit late ta worry about that now." It was the wrong thing to say. Don's face fell, and he turned his head away from Raph. The oldest turtle stepped closer quickly, awkwardly shifting his weight. "So, do you wanna, I dunno, go to the junkyard to look for anything?"

It was amazing how easy it was to cheer Donatello up when science was involved. "Could we, though?" He asked, his eyes suddenly bright with a new kind of emotion: anticipation. "I actually do need a few parts for the new camera system, this thing with the rats can't go on any longer, it's not safe… But I'd need to go to the store for a few more things…" His shoulders slumped. "Or not, because this month's budget is almost up and we need some more food. Maybe we could do all the shopping while we're out, so Leo agrees to let us go." He looked around wildly, trying to find a clock that actually properly worked. "Is it still daylight?"

Raph chuckled. "Yeah, but we'll be fine. It's a working day. C'mon, let's talk fearless into this so we can get outta here."

***T*M*N*T***

Usagi toweled himself off with quick efficiency. He'd tried to keep his wound out of the water and to not stretch his arms too much. It still hurt, though, and the aftereffects of the drug Donatello had given him were starting to make him feel slightly nauseous. Or maybe that was just the hunger, coming back in a new disguise.

Once he was reasonably dry, he eyed the stack of clothes on the wash basin. As Leonardo had feared, the rabbit needed to tie the wide jogging bottoms tightly around his much thinner frame, and the Shirt hung off him like a dress. He found himself longing for his familiar kimono, but he vaguely remembered shredding his own clothes to use as a makeshift bandage. Still, these _were_ clothes, and they were better than nothing. He supposed.

He still felt uncomfortable when he limped out to the gallery. His side started to hurt in earnest now, and the stitches were already itching. His mind was halfway through a list of the appropriate herbs he could use before he realized that he had no knowledge of the local biology whatsoever. For all he knew, the plants he was used to might not even exist in dimension Third Earth.

He would have to get through the pain on his own, then. Well, that wasn't exactly new in any case.

He was halfway down the stairs when he heard voices coming from the sofa area. They were hushed but angry, like someone tried very hard not to shout. Automatically, Usagi tried to pick up the topic of the discussion. It was muscle memory as much as anything else; he never quite realized how much he relied on his keen sense of hearing to spot danger until it was somehow taken from him.

"…not going topside at this hour! Sensei would have a fit!"

"Oh yeah? An' who died and made you my boss?"

Unlike Leonardo, Raphael did not even try to be quiet. His tone was sharp and angry. For the second time that day, Usagi felt like he had just walked in on a very personal family thing. He was acutely aware of the fact that he had intruded the turtles' home without any explanation whatsoever, accident or not.

"…Never listened to you before, and I won't start now. Dis is stupid," Raphael spat and turned towards the doorway at the end of the room. "You comin' or what, Don?"

Donatello stood up from where he'd been sitting on the sofa. He cast an apologetic glance at his eldest brother. "Sorry, Leo, but I need those parts. It's about the cameras. And… some other things." He was holding himself back from saying more. Even Usagi could tell that much. Still the samurai saw Leonardo's shoulders slump in defeat when he succumbed to his brothers' wishes.

"All right. But remember, keep an eye out for danger and don't stay in one spot for-"

"Whatever," Raphael interrupted him. "We don't need a babysitter, Leo. You go and sharpen your swords or whatever it is you do all day."

From his current angle, Usagi could not see the two brothers leave, but he heard the soft hiss as a door opened and closed. Suddenly, he felt very exposed and terribly awkward. He really should not be here. His feet made almost no sound on the floor when he finally moved, but Leo immediately shook himself out of it and turned to face him.

"Usagi," he said. His eyes were tired, and it was not from lack of sleep. Then the young ninja blinked, and the strange look was gone. The ronin chose not to mention it. "You heard that?"

The samurai bowed his head slightly by means of an apology. "I'm afraid so. I apologize. I did not mean to intrude."

Leonardo rubbed a hand down his face and over his neck and looked away. "No, it's fine. Better now than later. That's just Raph for you. He wasn't really trying to get to me, he was just accompanying Donnie…" His voice trailed off and they stood in silence for a moment. Finally, Leo reached out with one hand as if to touch Usagi's face before he thought better of it and let it sink again. "You got some. Uh. Your fur." He waved his hand over the left area of his own face to show what he meant. Usagi found himself mirroring the gesture. Some of his towel-dry fur was sticking out in places and he smoothed it hastily. "Yes. Thank you."

The silence continued. Usagi wasn't sure what the appropriate thing to do was anymore. In his own world, things were much easier to deal with. There were warriors, and there were peasants. End of story. Whenever you met someone you knew and were personally fond of, you thanked the Gods they were still alive, spent a night with drinks and food and story-telling in each other's company, and the next morning, everyone went their separate ways again. That's just how things _were_.

He was a master of the spiritual plane and nobody could best him with the katana blades, but he had to accept that nobody had ever prepared him for the emotional downsides that came with living with the same person for a longer amount of time. And somehow, he got the impression that Leonardo felt similar. The ninja actually shuffled his feet when the quiet went on for too long. That's when it hit Usagi that Leonardo, despite his remarkably calm demeanor, was still very young and bound to be easily overwhelmed.

Thinking about it, so was he.

That broke the spell. Usagi tried a small smile and lifted his head to get Leonardo's attention. Just as he was about to say something, however, he was interrupted.

"Dude! You totally look like, I dunno, a gangster rapper rabbit!"

Michelangelo leaned out of the kitchen doorway and grinned at him. There was something weird about that particular turtle, Usagi decided. He was cheerful _all the time._ Most people who saw it as their job to make others smile were tired very quickly, and at the end of the day their heart wasn't really in it anymore. Not so with the youngest ninja. He gave it his best shot every single time he tried. His heart was in everything, all over the place. He _should_ be a mess, but somehow he _wasn't._ It was almost unfair. Usagi had no idea how Michelangelo managed, but it must be a tightrope act to keep his balance between the emotional and the physical part of his life.

It was incredibly fascinating.

"Gangster… rapper… rabbit?" He asked, slowly turning the unfamiliar words over in his mouth. "I'm afraid I don't quite follow you."

Mikey's grin didn't even waver. "Like, a hip-hopper or something!"

"Hip-hopper." Unbidden, the image of a grasshopper crossed his mind. He heard Leonardo sigh behind him when the older ninja stepped closer. "Don't worry too much about it," he suggested. "It's just Mikey's way of telling you that you're cool."

Usagi's brow knitted in utter confusion. "Yes," he replied cautiously. "Cool."

Apparently completely oblivious of the ronin's predicament, Mikey's grin grew an impossible bit wider before his eyes grew huge with shock. "Oh! But what I really wanted to say! You must be starving! You should eat something!"

Leonardo actually cursed at that, just low enough for Usagi's keen hearing to catch it. There was no use in denying it, either. His stomach rumbled, as if on cue, and he literally stumbled through his reassuring smile when a new wave of dizziness hit him. "Thank you," he said quickly. "If it's not too much trouble, that would be marvelous."

"No need to be shy about it! Mi casa est su casa!"

"Casa, yes," Usagi repeated and followed Michelangelo into the kitchen. He pretended not to hear the chuckle Leonardo gave behind him, but found that his own mirroring smile was impossible to hide.

***T*M*N*T***

"Maybe we'll find a clue."

Raphael lowered his voice and ducked into the nearest alleyway. With a sigh, but not much protest, Don followed suit. "All right," he reluctantly agreed. "But you better make it quick. Leo will go nuts if we stay topside for too long." He pulled at the hood of his sweater and grimaced when he found it sweat-soaked. "Besides, it's awfully hot. People are already staring at us."

"Keep it down, will you?" Raph muttered and leaned down to find the manhole underneath the rubble and trash that littered the alley. He knew it was there. He'd used it before. "We'll be underground in no time. And it wasn't my idea to go to the shops at this time of day."

Don barely kept himself from pointing out that yes, it was. He owed Raph, and not just figuratively speaking. When they had passed a computer- and electronics- shop, Raph had ushered him inside and actually proceeded to pay for the things Don needed for the security system. With actual money. Don had no idea what his brother had done to get his hands on cash, and he'd found it best not to inquire further.

"Fine. We'll have one look at the area and then we'll go home." He slipped deeper into the shadows when a couple walked past the mouth of the alley, but they were too absorbed in their chit-chat to notice him. "Are you looking for anything specific?"

Raphael's idea was, basically, to go back to where he and Mikey had found Usagi in the sewers and try to figure out where he came from. They both shared the dark though unspoken suspicion that the Foot Clan was somehow involved. Don wouldn't put it past them, even though they were sparsely seen these days that the Shredder seemed to be gone for good. Don was of the opinion that they could just ask the samurai about it, but Raph argued that since they were here already, they might as well have a look. Don was not sure what his brother was trying to find. It wasn't like the Foot to leave a clan crest or graffiti somewhere to show that they'd been there.

Then again, he found that very little their varying enemies did surprised him anymore.

"Got it," Raph said and lifted the metal cover out of the ground. They both slipped through the semi-darkness without a sound until the cover was back in place. Don immediately got rid of the hoodie and proceeded to scratch at his itching neck and arms.

"Let's not do that again anytime soon, okay?"

"Mh." The reply was muffled by Raph's own clothes. He carelessly stuffed them into the backpack he was carrying once he'd gotten rid of them. "It was around here somewhere. Up north." He moved forwards with determination. Of the four of them, Raphael had the keenest sense of direction. Mikey had once said that with the hot-headed brother around, you didn't need a compass. It was meant to be a joke but actually hit a little too close to home.

Don followed his red-masked brother until they reached a corner where the mold had obviously been disturbed. The tang of copper was still heavy in the air, though the small stream that flowed next to the path had washed away most of the remains of Usagi's presence. Without a word, they headed further down the tunnels until they reached the nearest manhole. The further they walked, the more quiet their steps became, until they were tip-toeing around the corners. Maybe it was paranoid, but Donatello reflected that it was always better to expect the worst than to wake up dead.

Figuratively speaking.

Raphael pointed at the metal rings that formed a makeshift ladder beneath the manhole. Donatello spotted the brown stains on them almost instantly. He nodded and looked around for a moment to find out where they were.

_Central Park, _Raph mouthed silently, and the genius brother's eyes widened. Of course. It would make sense.

_No, stop thinking along those tracks._ _Ask questions instead_. Why_ would it make sense?_ _And more importantly: _To whom_?_

Raphael grabbed the lowest iron ring, but Don held him back and pointed at his wrist. They didn't wear watches, but the meaning was not lost on Raphael. He nodded and backed away. Then he indicated by a quick jerk of the head that they'd better head home now. For once, Don agreed with him whole- heartedly.

They didn't speak until they had reached the Lair entrance. They didn't need to. A whole conversation was flying back and forth between them, an entire tale told by the tension of their shoulders and the speed of their feet and the way they stepped over and through the everlasting puddles on the floor. It was there in the soft snorts that emerged from Raph on every other exhale and in Don's nervous fidgeting with his bandana tails. They didn't need to talk.

_It would've been nice, though,_ Don thought.

***T*M*N*T***

"Tell me again what these cereals are made of?" Usagi inquired and cautiously raised the spoon to his face to sniff at it. The bowl in front of him was filled with milk and strange, colorful _things _that floated in it. They smelled like paper, and the artificial flavoring burned on his tongue and brought tears to his eyes.

"They're fruit loops! Surely you know fruit loops!" Mikey grinned at him happily and Usagi showed his teeth in return. He hoped it'd pass as a smile. "I have never heard of them before, but they are certainly… interesting," he offered.

Mikey let out a contented sigh and slid lower into his chair. "Yeah. I know. They are amazing."

Leo rolled his eyes and set another package down on the table. It was plain, yellow and most importantly, it didn't smell like the most blatant poison attempt of eternity.

"You don't have to eat Mikey's food if you don't want to," Leo said. Michelangelo struck out his tongue at him. "You don't have to eat cereals at all. We have loads of fruit, and bread…" He got up again and opened what seemed to be a metal closet until a cool breeze rolled out of it, followed by bright light. The shelves were lined with all kinds of food. It appeared to be a cooler of sorts, and it rattled quietly. Usagi's eyes widened at the sight.

"Honey, butter, marmalade, cheese, bacon… Do you eat meat?" Usagi shook his head, still stunned by the technology he was seeing. "Okay then, two types of cheese, more marmalade, and another jar… Mikey, why do we have three open jars of marmalade?"

"Becwawse I dunn like scherry," the easygoing turtle replied around a mouth full of cereal. "An' Raph dunn like orreyge."

"Orange?" Leonardo frowned and turned back. "Okay, four open jars. Great." He sighed and closed the door again. "Or I can always heat up soup," he offered helplessly. Mikey gagged. "No!" He swallowed his spoonful of milk and coughed. "No, don't let him cook you anything. Don't let him touch anything! The guy is a mess in the kitchen! He puts water in the microwave, he burns it!"

Usagi tried his best not to smile, but it was hard. Everything was so new and different that Mikey actually seemed like a constant in the vortex. "Right. And everyone knows that it is really supposed to be…" He had to guess. "_Microwaving_ the water?"

"Exactly." Mikey waved his spoon in the ronin's direction and splattered the tabletop with milk.

"Right," Usagi repeated and looked up at a Leonardo who didn't seem to know whether he was supposed to be crestfallen, insulted, or smiling. Somehow, his face managed to do all three at once.

"I'll settle for some bread then, if you wouldn't mind." Usagi pushed the cereal bowl away from him as casually as possible. "Thank you."

***T*M*N*T***

_The door opened with the kind of hiss that must cost evil people a lot of money on a daily basis. It led into darkness so profound that it seemed to swallow the light from the hallway. A tall figure stepped through the doorway, for a moment cut out almost comically against the white background. Then the door slid closed again._

_Even the footsteps were muffled by the dark. There was something sinister about it, something deadly, like it was watching. The main cause for that being that the darkness, indeed, watched._

"_Status report," a female voice said. Her words cut through the void with sharp precision. The shadows backed away from her instantly, like she was burning them with her tongue and her fearlessness._

We managed to open a portal, _a voice said. It was bodiless, floating, picked up by the air around the woman in the center of the room until it echoed back from the walls. _But something happened. Something came through and disrupted the energy flow.

"_Something?" The woman's tone did not change nor waver. "Or someone, perhaps?"_

We do not know the difference.

_She nodded, almost to herself, before she straightened up. "So you are telling me that so far this experiment has been nothing but a waste of time, money, and resources. Duly noted."_

Well. We do have the creature's blood.

"_Ah," she breathed. "Excellent. Have a sample delivered to my office by tonight. As for the experiment…" She made a vague noise that could mean anything. "You know what to do."_

Yes, mistress.

_Even in the eternal darkness of the black chamber, her teeth gleamed white before she left._


	8. Burning low

**AN:** _First things first: This is an extremely short chapter, even for my standards. It did, however, feel right to stop here. The next chapter will be longer and hopefully up next Friday._**  
**

_I'm officially moving today, and we don't have internet in the new apartment yet. Therefore, please forgive me for not answering your messages and perhaps a late update next week. I was really busy this week and out of the country on short notice for two days. To all of you who reviewed: Thank you very much, it made me very happy. I'm glad I seem to have everyone in character. To all who PM-ed me: I will try to reply as soon as possible, but please, bear with me here. I did read all your messages and I will answer eventually. Until then, love to all of you.  
_

_Chapter is currently un-beta-d._

* * *

**BURNING LOW  
**

* * *

_The figure watched the frenzied activity on the ground below in silence. Torches lit the semi-darkness of the forest floor where search parties were bustling through the undergrowth. These were not the natural inhabitants of the small jungle village. They weren't natives, probably not even locals, and their ruckus was enough to wake even the most fearful diurnal animals from their sleep and drive them out of their homes in panic._

_The creature had had to kill one of them. It was self-defense, but that was a small comfort. Taking a life was never an easy step. It hadn't felt right twenty years ago, and it still didn't feel any better today._

_But it _had_ crossed the river._

_The pinpricks of light slowly formed a greater ball of fire where the search parties merged into one and went back to the village. They were not complete fools. The creature waited while the men and women retreated, and then waited some more, until the other groups- the dark ones, the ones without torches- came back as well._

_Then it jumped to the ground, using the thick branches of the tree like someone else would a stepladder. Its paws made no sound on the moss and wet leaves that covered the spaces between the trees. It sniffed the air, just once, to make sure, and then it followed the weak splatter of moonlight deeper into the forest._

***T*M*N*T***_  
_

Usagi moaned in his sleep.

"Maybe we should wake him." As opposed to his words, Mikey's voice was barely a whisper above the steady rumble of the TV screens behind him. The youngest turtle was perched on one of the threadbare armchairs in the sofa area and watched the sleeping samurai with great interest.

"No. You heard Don. He needs the rest."

Leonardo occupied the other armchair ever since Usagi had fallen asleep on the sofa. He held a battered copy of "The Art of War" in his hands, but Mikey knew for a fact that Leo was watching his friend just as closely as the nunchuck-wielding turtle himself. The eldest was not even pretending very hard. He hadn't turned a page in at least ten minutes now.

"He doesn't look restful to me."

It was true. Usagi was frowning in his sleep, and his feet twitched relentlessly. He looked alert, the way Leo sometimes did when they were forced to sleep outside the lair in an unknown territory. Like the smallest sound would have him up and with a blade in his hands in the blink of an eye. It wasn't what Mikey called proper sleep, and in his experience one could take it up for maybe three nights or four when one was previously well-rested and at full health. He told Leo so in hushed tones, and the grass-green turtle finally put his book away when he considered this.

"Yes," he agreed quietly, "I know what you mean. But I don't know what to do about it."

In his surprise, Mikey was half inclined to ask Donatello for advice. The two remaining turtles had returned from their garbage run about half an hour ago. They had apparently found signs of a battle and splatters of blood in one of the minor tunnels that burrowed under NYC Central Park. But they had all agreed that it was best to ask Usagi himself as soon as he was back up.

"Tell you what," Mikey decided and back flipped over the backrest of his armchair, "I'll go get our spare futon and you let him sleep in your room for tonight. You're buddies, right? He's safe with you, you can look after each other, you both need sleep, and anyway I want to watch some serious TV here and he's occupying my space."

Leo shook his head at his brother's retreating form, but he marked the page he had been staring at for the last thirty minutes and got up as well. Mikey was prone to strange ideas, but nobody could deny him that he knew his way around emotional territory. He was, in a way, the emotional compass of the family. And of course he was right. Leonardo, at the very least, would feel better if he knew Usagi somewhere close and safe. And he suspected that the samurai felt the same.

"Usagi," he whispered softly and reached out to touch the samurai's arm that was dangling from the sofa. The white fur that covered his friend's body was surprisingly firm yet soft to the touch. Leonardo found himself suddenly mesmerized by the feeling of it, combined with a slow and steady pulse of blood beneath the warm skin underneath his fingertips. This was different from touching Klunk, or the occasional stray dog they'd meet in the alleys of NYC. It was also hugely different from touching April or Casey, although he couldn't pinpoint exactly why.

Leo shrank back from the sofa just in time, before Usagi's eyes opened and slowly focused on him.

"Leonardo-san," he muttered and rubbed at his eyes, willing himself out of it. "Is everything all right? Did something happen?" The samurai's face was too open somehow. His eyes seemed almost black in the dim light and his pupils were still wide with sleep. _It's barely past five in the evening, and already he's completely out of it_, Leo thought with sudden unease_. He really is hurt._

The young ninja shook his head. "No. No, but I was wondering if you maybe wanted to take a proper rest upstairs. Mikey is taking our spare futon up to my room right now." Again, he got the distinct feeling that there was something _wrong_ with his words, but he didn't know what exactly it was. "I'd feel better knowing you are close by," he hastened to add, and somehow that made everything worse, but Usagi was smiling when he carefully shifted into a sitting position.

"That sounds marvelous," he replied and gratefully accepted Leo's hand to help him stand up. "Thank you for your offer." And just like that, it was fine. Whatever _it_ was.

They went up the stairs together, both providing support for the other and each smiling softly to themselves. And from the safety of his own room, Mikey listened to their footsteps and rolled his eyes at them before he went back to his comic books.

***T*M*N*T***

When Don exited the lab about two hours later, the lair was dark and silent. From where he was standing in the den, he could see light spill through the gaps of Mikey's room, now dimmed down to a more normal shade. Leonardo's room was dark, and the purple-wearing turtle found himself wondering if Usagi was up there with his brother. It wouldn't be for the worst. That left only one question unanswered.

"Raphael?"

Seconds ticked by, made louder by the ringing silence that followed his voice. Something close to cold dread clenched in his stomach, and he took a deep breath, ready to shout this time, when he was finally answered by a dark voice.

"Yeah."

Raph stood in the kitchen doorway. The room behind him was dark, and Don wondered briefly what his brother had been doing in there. Instead, he let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding and came closer.

"I thought you would," he began and then didn't know how to continue.

"Yes," Raph replied darkly and took a sip from a can in his hand. "Me too." He sounded uncharacteristically bitter, even for him. Don frowned when he caught sight of the metal can.

"You drinking beer?" He raised an eye ridge at the proximity of Raph's face. "Where did you even hide that? I'm surprised Leo didn't find it."

Raph shrugged and crashed the beer can with a metallic scrape that made Don wince. "Nah. Leo knows about it. You want one?"

Definitely bitter. Don briefly thought about arguing this out, and then decided against it. Truth was, he was tired, and sore, and a beer didn't sound half bad right then. "Fine." He followed Raph into the kitchen where the older brother rummaged around in the black cupboards and came back with two new beer cans in his hands. With a start, Don realized that they must have been hidden behind Leo's tea boxes. That came as a surprise. As far as he knew, Leo barely ever drank alcohol, and then only at occasions that held no great chance of sudden fighting, like New Year's Eve or Christmas.

_As far as I know,_ he thought somewhat grimly and opened his own can. The drink was bitter and stuck his tongue to the roof of his mouth. It was similar to coffee except that instead of waking him up, it made him tired.

"Cheers," he muttered and raised his can in a mock salute. The dark shape that was Raph mirrored the gesture, and then they leaned back and drank in silence before they went to their respective rooms and closed the doors behind them.


	9. Marking territory

**AN:** _Hey everyone! I apologize for the huge delay! I still don't have internet at home. I'm currently at uni and I really SHOULD be listening to what the prof is saying but whatever. Who needs linguistics, right? Anyway, I'm busy busy. I hope I'll have access to internet by this friday so that the next update will be on time, but please forgive me if it's delayed again!  
In other news, this chapter is un-beta'd and also not re-checked. But here we go!_

* * *

**MARKING TERRITORY**

* * *

"We need to go _now_."

Raph's voice was low-pitched, which meant that he was trying to be quiet. It rumbled through the Lair like distant thunder. _Idiot, _Leo thought hazily, but his mouth twisted up into a smile on its own accord.

The movement woke him.

He opened his eyes and blinked a few times to get accustomed to the familiar dimness of his own room. Even though his mind could not detect any obvious danger, years of training stiffened his muscles and a spike of adrenaline quickened his pulse when he made out Usagi's shape next to his own, blocking the fastest way to the exit. He could tell that the samurai was awake as well, but his gaze was hefted on the door.

"It's going to rain soon," Don whispered outside. His attempts at silence were much better compared to Raph's, but now that Leo was awake, he could hear every word. Not only that, but he knew that Don's face was set into a frown and Raph was scowling and he also knew that Mikey was bouncing on the balls of his feet behind Raph, because this was just like it had been all his life and would be for as long as he lived to protect theirs.

"Ah," Don said, and Usagi's eyes shifted up to meet Leo's own.

When Leo remembered it later, he would write it off to the hazy remains of sleep, or, much later even, to a stomach bug. But when their eyes met, for a brief second, something akin to fear pooled in his guts and sent a shiver up his spine. His ears were ringing.

"Good morning, Leonardo-san," Usagi said. He was being deliberately loud, and the voices outside fell silent while the echo of the words broke whatever spell Leo had found himself under. "Yes," he replied hastily and no less loudly, "good morning to you," and then he stretched the tension out of his muscles. By the time he sat up, the feeling was already a dim memory.

He didn't watch while Usagi crossed the room to gather the too-wide clothes from the day before in the same manner that Usagi didn't watch while Leo stretched once more and picked up his mask from the floor next to their respective futons. And that was that.

Leo was perfectly aware that by the time they left the room, everyone else would be downstairs at the breakfast table- an epitome of innocence in every respect, he was sure. He didn't hurry. Instead, he held the door open for his friend before they slowly walked down the gallery and towards the stairs.

"How are you feeling?"

"Sore," Usagi replied with a grimace. "But still very much in one piece, which is a lot more than I had been hoping to achieve during the initial fight." He paused at the sight of the stairs, both in word and in his steps, and Leo stopped along with him. "I cannot possibly thank your family enough. I am truly in your debt."

"You saved our sensei," Leo pointed out and offered the ronin an arm, "and then you saved me. We are simply trying to return the gesture. Besides, you know you are always welcome in our home."

Something in his words seemed to amuse Usagi, even though Leonardo could not possibly fathom what it was. With a small huff that seemed to be equal parts mirth and annoyance, he accepted the arm and, leaning slightly into each other, they made their way downstairs.

The others had already set the table, which only served to raise Leo's suspicion. Something was going on, and he was deliberately left out. He sat down cautiously, eyeing the kitchen for any imminent danger, but at least it looked like nothing was going to explode anytime soon.

When Don set down cups of green tea in front of both him and Usagi, Leo was ready to jump his brother. He was feeling itchy all over. They were planning something. Raph's earlier words drifted through his mind again. _We need to go now. It's going to rain soon._

_They are going to look for clues,_ he realized with a start.

"All right," he said, satisfied with his deductions. "When are we going to…"

"You're not coming," Don interrupted him. They locked gazes across the kitchen table; two sets of chocolate brown eyes bored into each other, each as unrelenting as the other. For once, Don didn't give in. Needless to say, Leo was not amused.

"Then you are not going," he said abruptly and set his mug down heavily on the table. Suddenly, the air was humming. Leo rarely lost his temper. This nearly counted as an outburst.

Raph snorted.

"We don't need you to babysit us, _fearless leader_." The nickname had become an instrument of Raph's various moods over time, and right now, it sounded like an insult. "You don't need to look after us all the time."

Leo was up to the challenge in an instant. This was Raph. Bickering with him was familiar territory. "Oh yeah? And what exactly gives you the right to judge my ability to come with you?"

In the silence that followed, the sound of Donatello's chair scraping over the ground was like a thunderclap. The medic stood, both hands on the table, face so close to Leo's that he wasn't even invading personal space anymore- he was making it nonexistent. When he spoke, his voice was flat, sharp-edged and cold enough to burn.

"He was conscious twenty-four hours ago, when we had to dig you out of a sewer tunnel in a populated area because you had fallen down a manhole. He was also conscious while we brought you back here and you started trashing violently to escape from us. He was conscious when you started screaming." His voice was barely above a whisper now. The kitchen was dead quiet. Everyone seemed to be collectively holding their breaths. "He was conscious when you woke up for the first time, with him in your room, and told him that you _died_ back there in the tunnels. He was conscious when you nearly killed Mikey in a freak incident involving an old training bō. And most importantly," and with these words he leaned impossibly closer, until Leo could smell the bitter coffee in his brother's breath, "_you were not_."

Their eyes held each other in place while the silence continued. For once, Leo couldn't think of anything to say. Don was hiding it well, but he was _scared_. With a sudden start, Leo remembered the first time one of them had fallen seriously ill. It had been Mikey, of course it had been, who was always so careless and ate too much sugar and stayed in the water for too long. A case of the flu, that's what it was. Don had studied the old medicine book that had been their only source of information back then for hours, cooked some soup, put the youngest into a sweater and a scarf, and then he'd hidden himself in their room and cried for the rest day while Mikey busied himself with his pencils. Leo distinctly remembered curling around his brother in the darkness of their room and holding him while he sobbed.

"I'm sorry," he said and looked away.

Don sat back down. "Good," he said. Mikey let out a breath, and Raph pushed away from the counter he'd been leaning against and opened the fridge. To Leo's right, Usagi took a sip of his tea, not meeting anyone's eyes. Leo barely resisted the sudden urge to crawl under a rock and never come out again.

"No training, no sword-play, no Raph to tease. Am I allowed to meditate?" Leo picked up his mug and turned it in his fingers. It was still hot and the steam made his eyes water. Don selected bread and butter from the table before he answered. "You are, provided you can assure me that you will not lose yourself in your own head."

With a grunt, Leo leaned back and stared at the ceiling. "Fine. Anything I am _allowed_ to do?"

"You can always keep me company," Usagi replied casually. A quick glance revealed that the samurai was industriously studying the Nutella jar, but now he looked up and their eyes met. "If it is not too much trouble, of course."

Raph snickered before he sat down opposite Mikey, yoghurt and spoon in his hands. Mikey and Don exchanged a quick glance that could mean anything and that Leo wisely pretended not to see. "I apologize. Of course. I will show you around the lair later. Now…" He leaned forwards again and put his mug down on the table with a thud. "Anything you'd like to eat?"

"I usually don't eat breakfast." _I usually don't have the opportunity. _"However, some of this food certainly looks… interesting."

"Eat," Don ordered between bites and pushed the bread closer to Usagi. "Your body needs it." He drained the last of his coffee and, seemingly oblivious to Leo's disapproving stare, fetched a second cup from the coffee machine. "And while we're all here," the medic continued when he sat down again, cradling the hot mug in his hands, "you can tell us how you came to be here."

"Ah," Usagi said, very slowly, and then he closed his eyes when he concentrated on the images in his memory. "Yes, of course. It all started, more or less, two days ago…"

***two days ago***

_They came from the right, just like Usagi expected them to do, and that in itself was worrisome enough. But he didn't have time to think, barely had time to act at all before they were upon him. Steel sang against steel and, eventually, flesh when he blocked and sliced and countered and basically fought for his life. _

_They had him outnumbered, and reinforcements were already on their way. There wasn't even a reason behind it other than that these were the lands of Lord Hebi. Usagi had meant to pass quickly and without anyone taking notice, and it saddened the ronin that so many of the Neko clan's ninja warriors had to perish simply because their lord held a grudge against a lone samurai._

_The odds had been against him from the beginning, but he had been fighting for two hours and his arms were getting heavy. He needed cover, and he needed it now, before the thundering horns of the lookout posts in the trees called in another wave. He had been lucky up until now, and he was fully aware of it. Against a new group of prepared assassins, luck might well not be enough to earn him another victory._

_He heard the rustle of cloth against the rustle of leaves seconds before another dark-clad figure jumped him. He barely managed to get out of the way before a kunai embedded itself into the dust where he had stood only a moment ago. There was nothing for him to gain here. Usagi turned and fled the scene, zigzagging through the trees in an effort to lose his enemies in the thick undergrowth._

_It was no use. The Neko ninja did not even try to be silent anymore. He could make out at least three different groups that crashed through the bushes in his direction. Another horn was blown and he sped up, and then the line of trees in front of him abruptly gave way to sunlight._

_The samurai barely managed to stop in time. Only inches from the last dark tree trunks of the forest, a canyon was etched into the dry lands that were under Hebi's lordship. It wasn't very deep, and it wasn't very wide, but right now it could have been the gate to hell for all that it meant his doom._

_Usagi's throat felt suddenly and inexplicably dry when he turned around and once more faced the blue shadows that were the woods._

Honored ancestors,_ he thought in desperation while his eyes scanned the dark leaves for even darker shapes, _is there no way out for me this time?_ He thought of all those he considered to be his friends, who would have to see his head on the battlements of Hebi's castle the next time they entered it. Tomoe Ame came to mind, along with her young Lord Noriyuki, and Gennosuke, should he ever end up in these hostile lands…_

_And almost worse, there were those who would never even hear of what happened to him. Good warriors. Friends. For example, nobody would ever get word to Hamato Leonardo and his clan of five._

Give me a sign,_ he prayed and was answered by a crossbow bolt that missed him by inches. Someone laughed under the cover of cracking wood and the rustle of frightened animals. Usagi took a last, steadying breath and drew his wakizashi sword. The air tasted of resin and the dry, rich smell that was unique to summer evenings when he prepared to charge._

_In the shadows of a large rock to his left, something blue flashed in the light of the sinking sun._

***present day***

"A portal," Don thought aloud. Usagi opened his eyes and looked at him across the table. Even Mikey had stopped chewing; Leo was clenching his tea mug so hard that his knuckles were almost white.

"Yes. I admit that I did not give it much thought at the time. Everywhere seemed preferable to my situation." Usagi sounded uncharacteristically bitter, and when he barked out a laugh, it was harsh and humorless. "At first, I thought I had ended up at the Nexus dimension. I was wrong. And, sadly, my situation was not improved by much either. I was attacked again as soon as I had managed to regain my breath."

"But attacked by whom?" Don mused. Usagi grimaced. "_Ninja_," he said. Even from the word alone, it was clear that he found your general ninja to be equal to things you normally only found under rocks.

"_Foot_," Raph spat in a manner that made it clear that in his opinion, the Foot clan did not even deserve a rock to live under, yet alone a city to maraud.

Don was tapping his beak in thought. "Possible, but not necessarily true. They have been rather inactive lately. Maybe it was someone else. Still." He looked at Usagi over the tips of his fingers. "Did they have any clan crestson them, maybe? Any symbols at all?"

Usagi shook his head. "No. They were dressed in simple, black clothing, and they wore masks. I am afraid I was not able to make out more than that. It was very dark, and they were using shuriken on the light sources." He frowned, deep in thought. "Perhaps if you found the shuriken they hit me with..? It should still be where you found me."

"That is exactly what I was thinking," Don replied and leant back, satisfied with himself. "All right. Everyone eat up, and then we're off."


	10. Spending time

**AN:** _Once again, the update is late. Guess who still doesn't have internet at home? Damn right you bet it's me. Curse you, UnityMedia-people! Anyway, I'm home stealing my parents' internet, just for you~ and once I'm done I'll go visit my friends and play some D&D. There you go.  
Long story short, here's chapter nine, which is basically the rest of the last chapter so yeah, have fun. I love you all. Isabell, you are NOT my husband, if anything I am the one who earns the money. Boojah. That being said, chapter is currently un-beta'd, but I hope you enjoy._

* * *

**SPENDING TIME  
**

* * *

"You are unhappy," Usagi said.

Leo stiffened where he sat on the sofa. They both had a book open in their laps; Leo was still idly thumbing through "The Art of War", while Usagi had decided to get to know their dimension a bit better and selected a history book from a shelf in Don's lab. They had chatted about this and that, not really saying anything at all. Therefore, Leo would have liked to say that Usagi's remark was out of context. However, considering his maybe-not-so-sneaky glances at the door even he had to admit that it wasn't.

"Yes," he admitted. He kept his eyes fixed on his book, but even so he could sense Usagi looking at him. It made his skin crawl in a way that was both new and extremely confusing.

"But why?"

Usagi sounded genuinely puzzled. Leo abruptly remembered that his friend did not have siblings, or any close family to speak of as far as he knew. When he finally looked up, his eyes were instantly caught and held by Usagi's onyx ones. He seemed to have forgotten how to blink. Leo felt like an open book under the stare, and to his surprise found that he didn't mind.

"Ah," the samurai said and leaned back, apparently satisfied with what he'd seen. "You worry too much, Leonardo-san. I am sure they are fine."

Leo's eyes felt dry when he forced himself to blink. "Yes. I know." He looked down at his hands, but he didn't really see them. "It's not like I can just switch it off," he continued slowly. It sounded sadder than he felt.

Or, well, maybe it didn't.

"If people could do that, it would make life a lot easier. It would also make it a lot more horrifying," Usagi replied and closed the heavy folio with a thud. "What would you like to do to take your mind off it?"

Once again, Leo found his eyes drawn to the samurai's face. "I'm not sure," he finally confessed. "I think I would like to train, or spar, but I can't do that. I promised." He let out a heavy sigh. "I'm itchy all over, thinking about what they could run into out there."

"Yes," Usagi said and nodded, "that is only natural. However, surely there is something you enjoy that does not include honing your skills as a swords master." The way he said it, it sounded like the easiest thing in the world. _Surely there is something else. _Leo's nostrils flared, but he didn't answer right away.

"Drawing," he finally said. "I like to draw." It sounded like a challenge. Usagi raised one eyebrow at him.

"Do you want to show me?"

"What, my drawings?" Leo snorted. "Yeah, right. It's okay. I know it's Mikey's kind of thing so I don't do it much." Usagi's other eyebrow shot up, but Leo was too far gone to notice. "So what. I like drawing. I'm not perfect at it, but it's fun. It's nice to be able to bring some color into this whole… underground base thing." He waved his arms, vaguely indicating that his words included the whole lair. "But when I'm drawing, the water is blue, not brown or black or yellow, just blue, and the trees are green. All shades of green there are and ten thousands more that I don't have the right colors for. And the sky is blue with white clouds, not burning red and not midnight black, and when you walk the fields, which are golden and yellow and all the colors in the world in between, the air is clean, and you can actually _breathe_."

Leo's voice had steadily risen in volume and desperation, but now his mouth snapped shut and he slumped back into the sofa cushions. When he and Usagi met eyes again, the ronin's gaze was full of a strange fire that Leo had never seen in them before. "Get your pencils, Leonardo-san," the samurai said. "Now. I do not wish to discuss this with you," he added when Leo opened his mouth to argue. "Do it."

They held eye contact for another moment, and then Leo looked away. "Fine," he said. He meant it to sound sullen, but despite himself, he had to grin. "Give me a moment."

"I will not only give you all the time you need, I will also clear the kitchen table for you."

"Right," Leo said and got up, pretending desperately to sound nonchalant. "Yes. That's good." He took a deep breath and walked over to the stairs, very slowly, muscles vibrating with tension. Then, almost like an afterthought, he turned around once more. "Usagi-"

He stopped there and walked upstairs instead. _Thank you, _he had meant to say, but that was all right, it was understood; Usagi was smiling, too.

***T*M*N*T***

"All right," Leo said and lifted an aquamarine pencil. "What about this color?"

Usagi smiled absently. "Easy. A lake near the village I lived in as a child. It was more of a pond, if I recall it correctly, but it seemed so much bigger back then! When the sun shone down on it, the water looked like blue crystal." He had a faraway look in his eyes. Obviously, this was a memory he was fond of. The pencil scratched over the edges of the paper where Leo added shades of blue to his drawing, and then stopped when he was done.

"Now, all I need is the right shade of green for the grass." Leo rummaged through his pencil case in search of the color he had in mind. Usagi was sitting on the opposite side of the table, chin in his hands, but now he leaned closer to have a better look.

"You need to go out more, Leonardo-san," he said and got up when he saw the picture. He walked around the table, and Leo leaned back to give his friend more space. "This is beautiful. Very well done. You are obviously quite talented." Leo blushed faintly at the compliment, but Usagi was not done yet. "However, the colors do not add up. This tree is in the full bloom of spring, but the water only gets a shine like that in the summer, when the sun is high up in the sky. And the shades of these rocks with the withered moss and dark lines indicate winter." He pointed towards the parts of the picture while he spoke. "Which means…"

"…that I'm a hopeless case?" Leo leaned back further and drawled out a sigh. "Gosh. I don't know how any of this looks close-up, like, in real life. We spent a few weeks in winter at the farm house once, and I've seen the city in every wind and weather, but only from up high or at night." He rubbed his hands down his face in frustration. "It's useless."

Usagi sat down next to him. "What I was trying to express," he said very carefully, "is that maybe, you should use different shades of yellow and light green for the grass parts, to indicate autumn."

Leo stared at him in open wonder. There was a smudge of gray on his cheek, and Usagi found himself desperately not looking at it. "And they say Don is the genius in the family," the turtle finally said and looked back at his drawing. "Now there is an idea that I think worthy of the title." He reached for the stump of okra that was lying on the table when they both heard the faint rattle.

"What is that noise?" Usagi asked, suddenly alert. Leo frowned at the door. "The elevator," he said. "It seems like the others are back." Without another look at them, he threw his utensils back into their respective cases and stacked the paper he had used neatly on the edge of the table. "Let's see what they've found."

They made their way into the living room just in time to see the heavy stone doors open.

Don and Raph came in first, both without masks. Leo instantly spotted why: An angry red gash ran down Raph's arm, covered by both their masks as makeshift bandages. Behind them, Mikey squeezed through the stone doors of the elevator, a small bag slung over his shoulder.

"What happened?!" Leo strode forward to meet them. Raph rolled his eyes at the sight of him, but Donatello was visibly upset. "Raph is an idiot, that's what happened! There was a fight, all right, just some PDs, no big deal, right! We were all perfectly fine! And then he has to go and throw his sai away-"

"He was sneakin' up on you," Raph interrupted calmly. Don waved his hands as if to get rid of his words. "I was okay! And even if I hadn't been, I can take a hit, you know! You can't just throw your weapons away like that!"

"They _are_ for throwing, ya know." Raph prodded at the ruined masks that were wrapped around his upper arm. Then he smirked. "Bull's eye, too. They never knew what hit 'em."

"Just stitch him up, Don," Leo said quickly before the tirade could go on. "And then have him mop this up. He's bleeding all over the floor."

The leader and his friend watched the two retreating forms until Don had ushered Raph into the lab. Then they turned. Sounds from the kitchen told them that Mikey had skipped the post-fight discussion and was up to something.

"Gimme a break," Leo moaned and walked over to the door frame to see what his youngest brother was doing. Usagi followed him; his steps were almost inaudible on the concrete floor, but they were still loud compared to Leonardo's. His ears picked up muttering in the infirmary, and he had to deliberately focus on the kitchen in order not to eavesdrop. The walls really were quite thin here, and the thick air carried each sound far.

Mikey was busy spilling the contents of his bag all over the kitchen table. With growing surprise, Leo saw not only several shuriken, but also what appeared to be bits of black cloth, a silver button and… Mikey's digital camera.

"What is this, Mike?" Leo stepped through the doorway and into the kitchen, where he leant over the table in order to get a better look. "Where did you find all that?" he demanded. Mikey looked up at him, eye ridges raised. "It's evidence. Clues, Leo." He started his camera and began to flip through pictures of broken glass and blood splatters. "Tons and tons of clues. Don't you ever watch TV? The city is in uproar."

"The city is in…" Leo's voice trailed off. He picked up one of the shuriken and absently spun it around in his hands while his mind tried to catch up. "Wait. Central Park? All that stuff was in _Central Park_? And the humans _know_?"

He sensed rather than heard Usagi step closer, and fought the sudden urge to turn around. His skin was crawling. That wasn't _right_; this whole situation was fishy, and things were only starting to smell. "Were you seen?" he barked, more harshly than intended, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

_Tons and tons of clues_…

Mikey rolled his eyes and continued to scroll through the images on the camera instead of an answer. "Just another bunch of nosy New Yorkers, taking pictures where it's none of their business," he finally said. "Best part is, we found all the actual stuff scattered between the trees, where the media hadn't been yet."

"That so," Leo muttered and put the blade in his hands back down onto the table. "Interesting." He picked up a piece of cloth and rubbed it between his fingers. It was black. More than that; it radiated darkness to the extent where it seemed to gleam in the kitchen lights. It also felt soft and cool to the touch. This was not Foot clothing. It was too dark. The foot might be shifty bastards, Leo thought, but they were not stupid. There were two ways to be seen in the shadows: By wearing bright colors that stood out- or by wearing colors that made you darker than the night.

Usagi was still standing in the background in uncharacteristic silence. Leo thrust out his arm to hand the piece he was holding over to his friend. "Seems familiar?" he asked. "Could that be from the people who attacked you?"

Usagi took the cloth from him and held it up against the light for further inspection. "Possible," he finally admitted, "but I cannot be entirely certain. It was dark. I am not very good at night." He clenched his fist around the fabric and then let it slide through his hands while he thought about it. "It might be, though. It feels the same. Very soft and very cool." He threw it back onto the table. "Not your average ninja clothing," he concluded. "Too expensive. This is an assassin's clothing, but of one with education and also a distinguishable lack of practice. It's too dark to be useful."

Leo nodded. "My thoughts exactly." He cast a last glance at the items on the table before he walked around it to look over his brother's shoulder. "What else did you find, Mike?"

"Signs of a struggle." Mikey raised the camera to give Leo a better look at it. Most of the pictures showed broken glass, spilled from destroyed street lanterns; there were the remnants of a bike, now a broken and deformed heap, and a lamp post that was almost folded in half. Leo waved Usagi over to them. The rabbit looked at the pictures and made a small noise of surprise back in his throat.

"That is the park," he said. "In that machine." He spoke in the way of someone who has no idea what he is looking at but has the rather urgent feeling that he really, really ought to know.

"It's a camera," Leo said. "For the sake of the argument, let's just say it paints very small but accurate pictures of things very fast." He pointed at the bent metal. "What happened there?"

Usagi frowned. His fur brushed along Leo's arm when he leaned in closer. The turtle shrank back from it as if it had burnt him and then blushed violently. Luckily, the samurai appeared not to notice. "I do not know what happened to the… vehicle," he finally admitted. "But that lamp post might be my fault. I think I kicked a few of my attackers into things rather violently. I am sorry if I have damaged any property." He straightened up, and Leo let out a breath that he had not realized he was holding.

"Donnie says the bike seems to have melted," Mikey announced and turned the camera off. "Further inquisitions are required, but not today. Which is Don for _let's get home before shit gets real._" He sighed and stretched. "What with the TV people all over the place."

"Yes," Leo said, not really listening. Things didn't add up. They had had fights in the city before, but never to the extent where the media got interested in the damage. A couple of smashed street lamps weren't even really bad for their standards, either. They had once blown up a truck in the middle of a bridge, and nobody had cared. That's why it paid off to have someone like Karai as your enemy. She had money, and she had resources; affairs were usually covered up before they went that far. This was… _wrong_. And there were no other ninja in NYC. Somebody would know.

_Assassins…_

There were too many clues, he decided. Clues were dangerous. You started to alter the facts to have them fit what you think had happened, and that was where you got it wrong.

Usagi hadn't been between the trees. The only damage was along the path. So the clues were fake, and not very good ones, either. But there was something else. The lamp post was seriously bent. Leo did not for one moment doubt his friend's abilities in close-ranged combat, but the dent was too obvious for your average Foot soldier. Someone taller had crashed into the pole. Someone heavy.

A picture crossed his mind, a blurry image of a dim shop with glass cases and wooden drawers… and figures, tall and menacing, their hats like jigsaw blades casting shadows over merciless red eyes and carrying weapons that _shone_.

"They didn't wear straw hats," Usagi said absently. Then his eyes widened in sudden surprise and he took a startled breath.

"I'm not feeling very well," Leo said. His voice seemed to come from a long way off. As soon as the words were out, he found them to be true; his vision was already closing in, and he felt dizzy. _Nice hats. But they were not wearing straw hats. Weren't they? It was dark. It is always dark, and raining, and the lightning makes their blades look like the weapons of a distant god…_

"Leo," he distinctly heard Mikey say, but by then, his knees had already given out under him and the world tilted before it turned black.


	11. Losing grip

**AN:** _No, we still don't have internet. Yes, I am pissed off. I'm at my parents' right now, once more stealing their internet just for you. Sorry for the late update. Please enjoy._

* * *

**LOSING GRIP  
**

* * *

It was a brief trip into the darkness of his own mind, and it ended abruptly when Leo's descend to the ground was stopped by Usagi's arms.

They both fell to their knees, Usagi with a surprised grunt, Leo panting heavily. Mikey was by their side in an instant and relieved the samurai of his burden. "Two hundred and twenty pounds flat," he explained and heaved his brother upright. "You okay?"

Usagi, who was not sure whether he was meant or not and still stunned by what had just taken place, simply nodded and scrambled back to his feet. He watched while Michelangelo tried to shake some life back into the still form of Leonardo. The eldest turtle looked, for the lack of a better word, shell-shocked.

"What happened?" Mikey demanded. Leo blinked and slowly raised his head to meet his brother's eyes.

"It was," he began and then blinked again, obviously at a loss as to how to continue. "It was very," he tried again and stopped once more. "I don't know. Bad," he finished somewhat lamely and finally looked away, refusing to meet anyone's eyes.

Mikey grimaced and straightened up. For a moment his eyes met Usagi's. The samurai had a calculating look on his face, and at the eye contact he gave a tiny nod and stepped closer. "Leonardo-san," he said and waited for the young ninja to meet his gaze before he continued. "What did you see?"

A shudder ran over Leonardo's body, and his jaw clenched. "Nothing," he managed. "It was nothing."

Usagi nodded. "I thought as much," he said somewhat sadly and extended a hand. "Here, at least let me help you up…"

Three things happened in very fast order. One, Leo, with a last shuddering breath, allowed his friend to assist him. Two, the moment Usagi pulled Leo up, a strange expression of pain and surprise crossed his features and he stumbled backwards. And three, from the lab came a booming and unmistakably _Raph_ "Ouch!".

Mikey buried his head in his hands and groaned. "This family is utterly bonkers, and I give up on my sanity," he declared, grabbed Usagi and Leo both by one arm and bodily pulled them towards the door. "Bonkers, I'm telling you." He hauled them through the living room and towards the infirmary, all the time muttering under his breath. Neither of the two others stopped him. Usagi allowed himself to be herded with a sullen look on his face. Leo was still panting; his pupils were blown wide and he flinched at the bright light of the lab.

Don and Raph were sitting on the infirmary bed, chatting in hushed tones. They jumped up as soon as Mikey entered. "What happened?" Don asked, worry evident in his voice. Mikey shrugged and raised the arms he was still holding.

"Leo won't tell me, as usual, but I think Usagi here has pulled his stitches."

Donatello sighed very softly and straightened up. For a moment his eyes flickered from Raphael to Leonardo, and the red-clad turtle took the hint and led his brother over to the bed. Usagi found himself amazed by the dynamics between the four. _This is what a close family is like, _he mused. Then a hand on his arm demanded his attention.

"Please sit down here," Donatello said quietly and pointed at the steel examination table. Usagi followed the instructions and swung himself up to the top, where he sat, legs dangling. "Where does it hurt?"

"It doesn't, really," the samurai said. "I do not believe I pulled anything. I was just… surprised. I barely felt any pain for the last two days, and then I suddenly did, if only for a moment." He cast a sheepish glance at the medic. "I'm afraid that is as accurate as it gets."

Donatello nodded thoughtfully. "That's the pain meds for you. You were on to quite a lot, and of course you are not used to them…" His voice trailed off while he considered that new line of thought. "They might still be wearing off," he finally concluded. "Anyway, I'd still like to have a look at those stitches, just to make sure and also to see whether it's healing the way it should."

"Of course." Usagi pulled the shirt he was wearing over his head with careful movements, but without hesitation. He raised his arm to give Donatello better access before he said, "If it is all right with you, Donatello-san, I would like to let them wear off completely."

"You sure? This might hurt quite a bit later," Don said and straightened up when he was done with his examination. Then he shook his head and rubbed his forehead. "I'm sorry. Of course you are sure. You probably could have done all this a million times better, and it is your body after all."

"There is no need to apologize. You did very well. I owe you my life, Donatello-san, and I am not sure how I can redeem myself."

"Yeah, right." Despite himself, the turtle managed a grin. "Just drink enough water, don't stay up too late, yadda yadda, you know the drill."

Usagi nodded, but his eyes were trailing over to where Raphael and Leonardo were quietly talking. Michelangelo had disappeared, but Usagi's fine hearing picked up sounds from the kitchen. Leonardo was looking at the samurai, but quickly averted his gaze when he realized the look was returned; the movement caused Raph to crane his head back, and he raised an eye ridge before he turned back around.

"You sure you don't wanna talk about it?" Don heard his brother say while Usagi pulled on the shirt once more. Leo nodded. Raph's expression was surprisingly soft; but that was all the same, because with Leo's you could have smashed rocks.

"Yes." And that was the end of the argument. Raph got up and shook some life back into his legs. "Alright, whatever." He was about to turn away when Leo grabbed his arm. "How bad is it?" the older turtle asked, eyes fixed on the bandages that covered the dark green skin from the shoulder all the way down past the elbow.

Raph pulled his arm away with a grunt. "I'm fine, fearless. I didn't even need stitches. "

Leo snorted but let go anyway. "Right. Are you going to tell me how this happened or do I have to ask Mikey?"

The younger turtle's eyes narrowed. "I told you," he said slowly. "We were attacked by PDs. I took a hit. End of story." In the harsh light, his eyes were almost yellow, like a cat's. Leo's were very dark in comparison, but none less sharp. Right now they seemed to try to borrow into his brother's skull. "Yes," he said very slowly, "but the real question here is: why were you even in PD territory? You were supposed to check out Central Park and come straight back here. To be attacked in full daylight…"

"Don't go there, Leo." Raph's voice was a growl, deep enough to raise the hairs on Usagi's neck. At the edge of his vision, the samurai saw Donatello move sideways towards the door. He wondered idly whether he should follow, but Leo was already continuing, seemingly oblivious to the sudden change of atmosphere.

"To be attacked in full daylight," he said, and his words were clipped and sharp as knifes, "you would have to go to the docks, if not further downriver. What were you doing at the docks, Raph?"

"I'm telling you, it don't concern you." Raph turned around. Obviously, this conversation was over for him. Usagi caught a glimpse of the red-clad turtle's face when he stomped past Donatello and out of the room. Within the last seconds, it had gone from openly worried to closed-off and dark. Leonardo looked after him. His expression did not falter, but Usagi got the sudden impression that had the eldest turtle been alone, it would have.

Don disappeared alongside Raph and closed the door behind him. Their muttering was abruptly cut off. Suddenly, the silence seemed deafening. Usagi self-consciously fiddled with the hem of his shirt before he got a grip of himself and straightened up.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked cautiously.

Something strange was happening with the ninja's face while he pretended to consider the question. And then Usagi suddenly knew that while the answer he'd get would be a very decisive _yes_, the answer Leonardo _wanted_ to give was a very definite _no_.

"Yes," Leo said without looking at him.

"Good," Usagi said, and then he walked over and sat down on the bed next to the younger warrior. He folded his hands in his lap, stared straight ahead at a wall clustered with posters and notes, and waited.

Leo fidgeted with the bed linens, very pointedly not meeting his friend's eyes. And Usagi did not sigh, or roll his eyes, or cough. He didn't do anything at all. He just sat there. And finally, when he judged that the silence had been going on long enough, he very slowly moved his right hand sideways until it found another hand, and he held that hand, and he said, still looking straight ahead, "I'm here. And I will be here tomorrow, and so will your brothers, whether you want to hear that right now or not. You do matter, Leonardo-san, and you do not have to do anything on your own if you don't wish to do it."

Leo took a very deep breath, and then he turned and buried his head in Usagi's shoulder, and allowed himself to be held for a while.

It was not much, but it was a start, Usagi thought by himself. And so he held on, uncomfortable though it was, and stared at the black things in the corners of the room until they went away.

***T*M*N*T***

"You should just tell him," Don said quietly while they made their way to the kitchen.

"No," Raph said, and that was the end of that discussion.

***T*M*N*T***

It had found the place.

Nine days and nights and a considerable amount of fighting had taken the creature this far, and finally, it had found what it had been looking for.

The only problem was: this was impossible.

Never mind that the stone buildings had very definitely not been there the evening before, when it had bound itself to the trunk of one of the giant jungle trees before it went to sleep. And never mind that the distinctly pyramid-like shapes of the old temple were looming up far above the trees, and yet were as blank and withered and untouched by modern civilization as was in any way possible.

But the most important fact, the one that was impossible to ignore, was the shrill, hair-raising, ear-piercing voice in the back of its head that screamed RUN!

It had trained most of its life to defeat its fears and the instincts of the animal whose body it shared, but this time they were harder to ignore than ever before. But it couldn't take the chance to miss it if this really _was_ the place. If this temple, despite all the signs that said otherwise, was the destination of the creature's travels, it could not turn its back to it.

Hamato Splinter's whiskers twitched once, scanning the air for danger one last time, and then his paws touched the ground.


	12. Sleeping?

**AN:** _I have internet at the flat. I can go back to the regular Friday schedule. I have one new reviewer (hello there, sorry if my PM scared you, I love you). I should do something for uni now. I don't want to. I need to tidy up. Also I am currently 2194791% done with my life. Enjoy._

* * *

**SLEEPING ?  
**

* * *

And the truth is, nothing much happened after that.

Don and Leo spent some time in the lab, where they leaned over shuriken and black cloth and pictures and argued over all the things that could not have possibly been where they had been. Occasionally, they called Usagi in to confirm details. From what he told them, at least fifteen people had been involved in the initial fight. He sat on the infirmary bed, legs dangling, while they tried this way and that but failed to come up with a logic conclusion as to why the foot would scatter clues between the trees.

"Maybe it was Bishop," Don suggested.

"No. He'd never use ninja. His people have guns and technology and... no."

"Fine. Maybe it was the assassins from the Nexus dimension."

Usagi shook his head. "I would have recognized them," he replied. "This was different."

Eventually, they gave up on the subject and left the lab to spend some time with Mikey. The youngest was in the middle of watching an old cartoon. He was more than happy about the company and ranted on endlessly about the hidden meaning of certain pictures, pointing out character relationships and the show's background while Usagi watched in rapt fascination as the pictures bounced and flickered on the screen.

Mikey cooked dinner that day. He cooked dinner most of the time, because he liked to do it, and he was quite good at it, and because he had read somewhere that the body needed a certain amounts of vitamins and nutrition to function properly. Leo looked after himself mostly, but Raph didn't, and Don most _certainly_ didn't, even though he definitely _knew_ about the food charts. And therefore, Mikey had made it his goal to get as much of the needed nutrients into his brothers as possible.

He made hamburgers that evening, because there was no need to take things too serious either.

His brothers ate them because Mikey made them, and also because they quite liked hamburgers, and Usagi made it through three of the "veggie burgers" that miraculously appeared in front of him before he leaned back with a look of defeat on his face and closed his eyes with a long-drawn sigh.

And then they went to bed.

It could have been a normal ending for a mostly normal day. Except that, of course, nothing is ever normal when you are a teenage mutant ninja turtle.

At three in the morning, Raph tried to sneak out of the Lair only to find Don fast asleep on a chair in front of the doors, his bo staff gripped tightly. The red-banded turtle watched the scene for a moment, mentally debating whether he could make it past his brother or not, before he sighed and touched the younger's shoulder. They half-dragged each other to bed, where Don held on just a moment too long to be coincidental. Raph stayed home that night.

And when he and Usagi went to bed that evening, Leo hesitated with his fingers on the light switch. Because the darkness, which had been his faithful companion for all his life, had turned against him and become vicious. He nearly jumped when Usagi's fingers found his under the covers. There were no words that could express what he felt, but he held on tight nonetheless, and they stayed like this long after they had fallen asleep.

The only one who slept well and undisturbed that night was Mikey. And that was maybe the strangest occurrence of all.

***T*M*N*T***

"Leonardo-san," Usagi muttered and rolled over onto his right side, where he peered up at his friend with eyes that were hazy with the remnants of sleep.

Leo flinched, startled out of his thoughts, and briefly glanced over at the samurai. "You shouldn't be up, Usagi. You need to rest. Go back to sleep."

Instead of complying, Usagi stretched once and sat up straight, rubbing at his face. "It can't be later than five in the morning. _Nobody_ should be up, lest you yourself." He sat, waiting for a response. When none came, he pulled his knees closer to his chest and tilted his head to the side.

"Are you going to tell me about it?"

Leo was not ready to give in that easily. "Tell you about what?"

He felt the sigh more than he heard it; it was the faintest exhalation of breath, brushing over his biceps and making his skin tingle. He finally turned his head then. It was too dark to make out more than shadows and outlines, but he felt Usagi's eyes on his face as clearly as if he could see them in broad daylight.

"About _what you saw_," Usagi said.

The fear spiked in Leo's chest like sudden pain, and he flinched, averting his gaze and making as if to roll over on his side, away from the samurai on the bed next to his own. He was stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder. This time, when his gaze snapped up, it was smoldering with fury.

"What do you want me to say?" he shot back, his voice quickly rising in volume while the fear bubbled on, fuelling him. "It was dark, all right? A dark place. It was… they were just _pictures_. Gruesome, horrible, terrifying pictures, but just _that_. But you can't leave it at that, right? You have to prod, all of you, and ask questions and make me go through this _again_, when I can't tell you anything at all, because I barely had time to think in the intervals, much less figure anything out, and I _really_… I just…" His voice suddenly broke, and the turtle averted his gaze with sudden embarrassment. His words were hanging in the air, harsh and unforgiving and made so much worse by all the things he did _not_ say, but _almost_ had. His throat seemed too tight suddenly, closed off somehow by all the pressure that he felt himself under for days now.

And Usagi's hand still hadn't moved from its spot on his shoulder. At that moment, Leo felt that if it had, he would've lost himself. It took all his strength not to reach out and hold on to the fingers that anchored him to this world.

"It's still in here," he whispered to no-one in particular. He felt Usagi tense suddenly and shook his head, closing his eyes in confused desperation. "In my head. It's watching me." He meant it as an explanation, but knew the moment he spoke that it would not be enough. What did he mean, exactly, anyway? Did he know? He bit his lip, trying desperately to stay still.

"All right," Usagi said finally and leaned back. Leo felt suddenly and inexplicably cold at the loss of contact. "Come, Leonardo. There is no point in pretending to go back to sleep now that we have already started talking," Usagi explained when he felt the turtle's eyes shift up to meet his own in the dark. "We might as well try and do something about your visions. Sit up."

Leo shuddered once more but complied, pushing himself off the futon and into a sitting position. Automatically, he crossed his ankles, mirroring Usagi who had settled down as if for meditation. For a moment, the younger ninja's heart rate sped up. Then Usagi shifted, making their knees touch as if by accident, and the panic subsided.

"Do you want me to get a candle?" the rabbit asked while Leo shuffled around on his knees, trying to get comfortable. "Or turn on the light perhaps?"

Leo hesitated and looked up at the question. Their eyes were becoming accustomed to the darkness; Usagi could almost detect the familiar hint of grass green skin in the otherwise dark face in front of him. Finally, Leonardo nodded. "If you would be so kind," he said rather stiffly. "There are candles in the upper drawer on the left-hand side of my desk."

Usagi turned and reached for the drawer, careful not to overstretch and tear his wound. It was throbbing faintly beneath the stitches and fresh bandages, but none too badly. Still, one ought not to overdo it. With a bit of trial-and-error, he finally found the candles along with a pack of matches and arranged them next to the futons, taking extra care to keep them out of reach of the blankets.

He felt Leonardo tense next to him as the first flame sputtered to life, and made sure that their knees touched again when he straightened up into the familiar lotus position.

"They are not visions," Leo said into the quiet that followed the preparations. "Just pictures. I told you."

Usagi's eyes were half-closed, but he kept them trained on his friend's face. "Yes, but pictures of what?" he asked softly. He waited while Leonardo put his thoughts in order, using the time to awaken his third eye the way he had trained to do. He smiled when the edges of his vision started to shimmer in a strange black not-light that made up the background of the spirit planes.

Most things have a spirit, because they have been lived with for long enough to develop a kind of spirit echo of their own. A bit of everyone who touched them, worked with them, remained in all things. That was the reason why weapons, and blades most of all, were said to have such a powerful soul. Usagi's own master had explained it to him, years ago: _A samurai's sword is his life; it is a reflection of his very own soul, _he had said. _We live by the sword, we die by the sword. It is a part of us as much as our hands, or our thoughts, or the blood in our veins. That is the main difference between a samurai and a ninja, young student. A ninja's blade is always just another tool._

Usagi was not surprised to find the spirit of Leonardo's twin katanas ablaze like a living flame, brightening the edges of the room where they were put up on a small sword rack. He watched as the blades' spirit flickered and danced until he could follow the thin but bright thread that connected them to their wielder.

Leonardo's spirit shone in a pale yellow, but it was mottled by dark shades and streaks. He was indeed troubled, Usagi found, and more deeply than even the samurai had expected. He also could not help but notice several especially dark spots that most visibly flecked the bright flame. Every thinking spirit had them, some more and some less; they were a person's faults and fears, regrets and worries; they were the black thoughts that came up when all the lights were out and the darkness of the world mingled with the darkness of the mind.

He did not mean to pry- these things were not his to see unless he was explicitly invited-, but a particular spot attracted his attention. It was pitch black, and when Usagi concentrated on it, it seemed to be moving.

"Memories, I think," he heard Leonardo say. The spirit flame changed, burning just a bit higher, and Usagi sensed that his friend had at least partially accompanied him in this other world that was so tightly interwoven with their own. He was surprised; it took years of training to enter the astral planes, but Leonardo seemed to have slipped into meditation like another would into a cloak.

"You think?" he replied, his curiosity now piqued. He kept his attention trained on the black spot that he had detected. It was most definitely moving; he was almost convinced of it by now. People's spirits were not supposed to do that. Of course they were in constant flux, but the individual parts usually stayed in one place. He concentrated, focusing more intently on the spot, trying to figure out what his mind's eye was telling him.

"Well. They are… not real memories. They start out all right… But then something differs from what has really happened, what_ I_ _know_ has really happened, and things go… wrong." Leonardo took a shuddering breath, and his spirit turned a darker shade of yellow. Usagi waited for the other to say more, but the silence continued onwards.

"People die," Leonardo finally said, almost inaudibly but for the rabbit's keen hearing.

He nodded and waited for the ninja's breathing to calm down again. His own heart was beating hard against his ribs, both from the exertion of keeping the third eye open and focussed and the sudden, thrilling shock of what he had just heard. As if from a distance, he felt his own katana blade's spirit answer in the same manner; they were pulsing softly, reassuring him. He looked up in wonder at the weakness of the response and realized with a sudden start that the air around him was glowing faintly yellow.

_Leonardo is wielding a mental shield, _he thought with surprise, _and quite a powerful one, too. And he trusted me enough to let me in. I did not even feel it._

"In what way do the images differ? And who dies?" he asked softly. He made sure that their knees were still touching while he allowed his mind to explore this new territory. He had never been in another person's shield before, had always stood his own ground when it came to battles of the mind; this was new, and it was thrillingly interesting. His own spirit stretched out and away from his body, glowing faintly blue-white. He carefully felt along the edges of the shield. It was stretched thin, obviously not meant to be for two, and seemed to be cracking at some places. How strange. But they were not in any obvious danger here, as far as he could tell, and Leonardo had been under quite a lot of stress lately. Maybe that was the explanation. Usagi went on exploring, carefully maneuvering around where Leonardo's spirit was stretching out as well while the turtle continued to re-arrange his thoughts.

"Mikey," he whispered finally, and Usagi stopped and listened with a new intensity. "Don. Raph. April and Case… and I…" He shook his head; the movement was mirrored by his spirit, which turned a new shade of orange, the color blossoming outwards from the center like a strange, exotic flower. "No," he corrected himself. "We are not dead. None of them are dead. I'm not… dead…"

"You are not. Leonardo, listen." Out of the corners of his eyes, Usagi caught a movement. It was the black dot. It moved to the right while they talked and hovered there, almost invisible against the darker background of the room, but still very much there. With another start, Usagi realized that it seemed glued to Leonardo's shield- not the inside, but the outer shell of it. He felt an uneasy tingle in the small of his back and fought it down, not wishing to contaminate the air any more with his own tension.

"I have another question." He re-focussed his attention on Leonardo, whose spirit was now glowing a bright orange, colored dark with distress. "Just one more, then we will stop." Leonardo simply nodded in response. His eyes were clenched shut, his muscles taut. He was obviously trying to calm his breathing. "Good. When you see those pictures, those memories, _where in them are you_?"

Leo took a deep, shuddering breath. "I don't know," he said, his voice high and thin. "I don't... I didn't..." Another of the darker spots blossomed out while the ninja tried to dig through his sub-conscious. Usagi responded immediately, pressing just a bit harder where their knees connected, easing his own spirit through the waves of his friend's consciousness. "All right, stop it. Do not try to force yourself into anything. Calm down." He tried to ease the tension that was suddenly thick in the room, but to little avail. _Calm down. You are safe here._

"Leonardo," he repeated in low tones. His skin was tingling. He found his eyes trailing back to the strange dark spot and had to fight the sudden, but increasingly strong feeling that something was looking _back_ at him.

The turtle took a deep breath and finally looked up, momentarily distracted from his own thoughts. "What?"

"Earlier, you were talking about the pictures you see." Usagi's voice was barely above a whisper now. He hadn't meant to push any further, not after the obvious display of distress and fear that he was witnessing. But the black spirit drop was watching him, he was certain of it. It reminded him of a very old and ancient drawing he had once seen on his travels, of a demon made of hate and teeth. But that was _implausible_. This dot, whatever it was, barely had the size of a fingernail.

_Still…_

"You said '_it_'", he said. Sensing Leonardo's growing confusion, he tried to explain, but his attention was elsewhere now. "You said they were just pictures, and then you said that _it_ was still watching you." His hands were itching for his blades. "What did you mean by '_it_'?"

Leo blinked.

***T*M*N*T***

_We are ready to repeat the experiment, Mistress._

"Excellent."


	13. Cutting close

**AN:** _Hey guys! Quick explanation: In this chapter, we finally get the romance and the suspense going. It's the longest chapter by far, but it didn't make sense to cut it anywhere, so here you go. I hope you enjoy. Huge thanks go to **Elphaba **who really helped me out._

**Song:** _I should probably mention that I have chosen P!nk's new song "Just give me a reason" as my temporary LeoxUsagi-song.__  
_

_Just give me a reason,  
Just a little bit's enough,  
Just a second, we're not broken, just bent  
And we can learn to love again  
_

* * *

**CUTTING CLOSE**

* * *

"Good morning, sleepy-heads!" Mikey greeted Usagi and Leo when they came downstairs for breakfast. The smell of bacon and eggs was already thick in the air. Despite himself, Usagi heard his stomach rumble. He nodded at Michelangelo, Donatello and Raphael in greeting before he sank into the free kitchen chair that had so quickly become his. He took great care, but couldn't help the grimace when he felt the wound in his side throb in response to the movement.

His head answered likewise, and he rubbed at his temples while he waited for Michelangelo to finish cooking. The clock on the wall told him that it was already nine in the morning. _Perhaps I overslept, _he mused, absently tracing the cuts and nicks in the worn wood of the table with his fingertips.

On the other side of the table, Leonardo fell into his own chair with a long-drawn sigh, a similar expression of personal misery on his face. He, too, rubbed at his temples before he caught Don watching him over the rim of his coffee cup and quickly lowered his hands. Don raised both eye ridges at him and Usagi, but wisely chose not to mention it. Mikey, however, knew none of these restrictions.

"You both look like you had one hell of a night. Completely wiped. What've you been doing?" His voice was the epitome of innocence, which caused Raph to instantly choke on his own coffee.

This time it was Usagi's turn to refrain from commenting, even though he couldn't help the small smile that crept into the corners of his mouth at the words. Leo closed his eyes very briefly, a strange expression of pain crossing his features, which demanded the samurai's attention far more urgently. It _was_ strange, though. He never had been one to get headaches easily, especially not from too much sleep. His body generally knew what it needed. He'd slept safe and sound up to fifteen minutes ago, as far as he recalled, and so had Leonardo...

_Hadn't they?_

Though looking up, he had to admit that Michelangelo's words rang true. Leonardo did not look rested; quite the opposite in fact. Suddenly, Usagi's fingers were itching, and the smell of fresh food made him feel slightly nauseous. He was about to say so when Michelangelo put a steaming mug in front of him.

"Green tea okay?"

Usagi nodded, thankful for the interruption. Mikey muttered something that sounded like _figures _before he turned around and busied himself at the stove again. Unsurprisingly, the fresh and strong scent of the tea calmed the ronin's mind and his upset stomach. He wrapped his hands around the mug and tried to relax.

Half an hour later, the plates in front of the five were scraped clean and the four brothers were chatting easily over the remnants of their drinks and food. Usagi basked in the harmonic atmosphere, letting the sounds wash over him without really listening to what was said. It felt… _nice_, to be in one place over a longer stretch of time for a change, and as young as these four were, it only made their home feel all that much more alive.

He watched lazily while Michelangelo and Donatello got up, only coming back to his senses when he realized they were clearing the table.

"Can I be of assistance somehow?" he asked, not wishing to cause them any more stress. Michelangelo dismissed him with a laugh.

"That's all right. It's Raph's and Don's turn to do the dishes anyway. You just chill for a while, hell knows you can use a little rest."

Usagi nodded, but did not wish to stay in the kitchen for much longer in fear of getting in the way. He had half a mind to have another look at the lair now that he could move more securely on his own when a strange, fast-paced rattle reached his ears.

Suddenly alert, he straightened up in his chair and looked around. The sound was definitely coming from somewhere in this room. Sensing his agitation, both Leo and Mikey looked at him with furrowed brows. Finally, Mikey piped up.

"What's up?"

"What is that sound?" Usagi asked back. It wasn't that loud, but hardly inaudible either. The others stilled, all action momentarily coming to a stop, until Don's face lit up.

"Oh! My cell!" He dropped the dishes into the soapy water in the sink and instead reached for a small, green device on the counter to his left. It was designed to look like a small turtle shell. Usagi watched with interest as the turtle flipped it open and punched a small button before raising it up to his face.

"Yes?"

The samurai's eyes went round in wonder when he heard a tinny voice reply. It seemed to come out of the device, but there was nobody nearby. It did not sound pre-recorded either, the way the TV-shows supposedly were, according to Michelangelo. Whatever the case, Donatello smiled in response to the voice and leaned back against the counter. "Yes, it's me. Hi, April. What's up? Are you back from your trip yet?" He listened intently and finally nodded while the tinny voice continued on. "Right," he said. "Well, sounds good to me, anyway. Just stay safe and don't do anything silly." He flinched when a new stream of words was launched at him. "No! I didn't mean it like that! Of course I know you're responsible, I just…"

Leo rolled his eyes in amusement and leaned back, obviously just as unimpressed as the others by the talking turtle shell. It dawned on Usagi that this had to be some kind of communication device, and he decided to just go with it for now. He mirrored Leonardo's posture, leaning back with his arms crossed loosely over his chest.

"Do you really? Cool. No. Actually, we have an unexpected if welcome house guest right now. Remember Usagi Miyamoto? Leo must have told you about him at some point. I'm pretty sure he told _everyone_ by now…"

Mikey chuckled, then got up from his chair and helped Raphael with the dishes while Donatello talked. Usagi thought he saw Leonardo stiffen momentarily, and he suddenly found great interest in the shirt he was wearing. It really was too loose somehow. He longed for his own clothing, for the familiar feel of silk on his skin. But most of all, he wanted some answers. His head was still throbbing faintly, reminding him that he was not well enough to risk running into trouble on his own. He wondered whether or not there was a way to go topside in safety, just to breathe some fresh air again.

Leonardo seemed to read his thoughts, because he got up and silently motioned for Usagi to follow him out of the kitchen. The samurai followed suit. Just as he left, he heard Donatello's voice change slightly.

"No, father hasn't gotten into contact yet. I don't know. He said by the end of this week."

_Splinter-san must have left for a trip of his own, _the rabbit mused absently. _Although it seems strange that he would not tell his family where he went._

"So, who exactly is Donatello talking to through the… device?" he asked casually while he followed Leonardo through the main hall. The turtle stopped just next to the door of Don's lab and turned around. "You mean the cell? He's talking to April. April O'Neil. Surely I've told you about her."

"I believe so." _Young woman, good person, loyal friend, fierce fighter, Donatello's intellect. You'd like her. _"What is a cell?"

"Cellphone." Leo looked at his friend's face and laughed, startled. "Oh! Oh, I'm sorry. It's a smaller version of a phone. As you said, that's a communication device…" His voice trailed off when he realized that this explanation was far from satisfactory. But the truth was that he _didn't_ know how a phone worked. It had something to do with waves, and satellites, and small chips and tiny microphones, but really? He couldn't say. It was Don who built them, Don who knew all about electronics and technology. Leo doubted his own ability to change his shell cell's SIM card if his life depended on it_ (did their cells even have a SIM card? Who paid for their calls and texts anyway? And how was it that he didn't know?)_. It was always just _there_. Suddenly, that seemed almost like a crime.

He had meant to go to the dojo, to maybe get outside for a bit, spend some time together doing nothing in particular _(and that, too, is a first, he thinks while _something_ spikes in his chest)_, but suddenly, he was unsure. "Would you like to find out?"

"With pleasure," Usagi said, because of course he'd like to know more about this strange technology that holds more wonders with every passing day _(and also because he would have agreed to anything, as long as it meant spending time with Leonardo, preferably alone, and he thinks of himself as an adult but the thought makes him feel like a giddy teenager, involuntarily causing him to smile)_.

So they entered the lab. Once more Usagi was amazed by the strange half-tidiness of the room. The part that was used as an infirmary presented itself as impeccable as ever, with fresh linen on the beds and the IV pushed back in the corner behind the cooler. The other half, however, was a mess. An organized mess, he thought with a look at the heaps of scrap metal and the tools on the walls, but a mess nonetheless. Leonardo only looked around once before he walked over to one of the bookshelves and determinedly reached for a specific book. It was dark brown, very thick, and obviously well-used.

Leonardo already held the book in his hands when he suddenly hesitated. "Or maybe we could just google it," he said almost to himself. Usagi was not going to ask him what exactly "google" was supposed to mean, but he accepted the old folio when it was handed to him and sat down on the infirmary bed while Leonardo tried to make room on one of the work tables. The turtle eyed the various experiments and devices critically, trying to figure out which were important and which were more likely to survive being moved.

Halfway through, Don entered the lab. He looked surprised, if not startled, by their presence. "Don't touch that," he said quickly when Leo reached for one of the petri dishes on the table in front of him. "What are you doing here?" He didn't sound angry or annoyed, just curious. It occurred to Usagi that the other turtles probably didn't spend much time in here when their brother was not with them, and he wondered why that was. It all seemed incredibly fascinating to him.

Leo stayed where he was but lowered his hands. "We are trying to find out how a cellphone works," he said with as much dignity as he could muster. The responding question mark could not have been more obvious on Donatello's face if painted there, but the mechanic managed to wrap his mind around the situation just in time.

"You could have just asked me."

"We-ell," Leo said. "When you put it that way." He walked over to the infirmary bed and sat down on it next to Usagi, resting his hands in his lap in his best impersonation of a good pupil. "How _does_ a cellphone work, Donnie?"

"Uh." The purple-clad ninja sat down on the other side of the bed, which started to creak rather alarmingly under their combined weight, and leaned back until his shell touched the wall. Usagi moved over to the side to make more room, thus getting even closer to Leonardo. The turtle's skin was cool, a welcoming change now that Usagi's entire left side seemed to be on fire, and they stayed like that in unspoken agreement, neither of the two acknowledging how their hearts beat just a little bit faster at the contact. Don, on the other hand, seemed completely oblivious.

"Let's see. The communication itself functions by transforming your voice into hertzian waves, or radio waves for you, but before you get that far, you need to of course start with the electronics…"

***T*M*N*T***

"Where is everyone, knucklehead?" Raphael asked his youngest brother when he entered the living room later that day. Mikey didn't need to ask where he'd been; the oil stains on the red-masked brother's plastron and hands told a story far more accurate than any words could. _He's been working on the bike again._ Instead of answering to the older turtle's question, Mikey merely shrugged and turned his attention back to the TV screen.

"I think in the lab," he finally replied when he felt Raphael's continued stare on him. "With Donnie."

"Still?" Raph sounded surprised, but didn't press the subject. Instead, he flopped down on the sofa next to his brother and watched him play some sort of car game for a couple of minutes. "You up for a race?" he finally asked. Mikey shrugged again, but handed him the controller before getting up to find the second one.

They were engrossed in their third re-match for supremacy when the door to the lab finally opened and released Leonardo and Usagi. Mikey's attention shifted just in time to catch Leo say, "maybe we can watch the documentation someday".

His eye ridges rose in surprise, and he barely waited for Raph to hit the pause-button before they both turned in their seats to get a better look. Donatello was standing in the doorway with a stunned look on his face. "Yeah. Sure," the genius finally choked out and proceeded to stare after his eldest brother and his friend with wide eyes until the two had reached the door to the dojo and disappeared inside. Mikey could hear them talking quietly to each other, but couldn't make out what was said.

"What happened, Donnie?" Raph demanded, obviously just as confused by what he had seen as the rest of them. Don turned towards them then, and only spoke when he was safely seated in the empty armchair next to the sofa.

"Nothing," he said. He still looked visibly shaken, though, so Raphael merely frowned at him in response. "I was going to finish the new camera system today, so I went to the lab only to find the two of them-"

"Caught them red-handed, didn't 'cha?" Raph interrupted and chuckled quietly. Mikey rolled his eyes, but didn't comment. Don, however, blushed at the words. "No! No. No, they were reading. Apparently, they were trying to find out how a cellphone works."

"I'm not sure whether they are really aware of what is happening between them," Mikey mused, completely dismissing the point, and un-paused the game, heedless of Raph's protest. "Or at least Leo isn't. I'm not so sure about Usagi though."

"Guess so. Whoever knows what's going on in their heads?" Don changed into a more comfortable position, obviously not willing to pursue the subject any further, and with another mental eye rolling, Mikey complied.

They sat in silence for a while, with Mikey and Raph cutting corners and Don merely watching. The doors of the dojo were still open, but they knew better than to go in there right now. Eventually, Mikey made it over the finish line and leaned back, a satisfied smile on his face. He heard Raph groan in frustration next to him and his grin widened even more when he heard Don's answering chuckle.

"Well?" he asked when he judged that the silence had gone on long enough. Don tilted his head, the question obvious on his face. Mikey smiled sweetly. "How exactly _does_ a cellphone work, then, Donnie?"

***T*M*N*T***

The dojo was beautiful, Usagi thought. The domed ceiling seemed to be connected to a building above ground somehow, because windows high up on the walls allowed real sunlight to filter in and light up the padded floor. A badly abused punching bag hung from a lowered part of the ceiling next to the blue paper doors, and weapon racks seemed to cover every available wall. Usagi abruptly understood where the turtles' talents for all types of weapons came from. He was able to make out a couple of old blades, obviously meant for training purposes only, as well as chipped bo staffs in different lengths. Several shuriken and kunai were deeply embedded in a target up on one of the walls, and he spotted at least a pair of tonfa and a couple of chains as well.

He was impressed. This was far more advanced than he had thought. He wondered if Leonardo knew how to use all these weapons, but looking back at their first fight with the Nexus dimension's assassins, he didn't doubt it. There was a lot more about his friend than first met the eye.

"You like what you're seeing then?" Leonardo asked. Usagi turned to find the other leaning against one of the stone pillars that held the ceiling, studiously not meeting his eyes. He couldn't help but smile at the sight.

"Very much so," he replied softly and stepped closer. Leo's eyes snapped up to the samurai's face, and his mouth opened, but no words escaped him. Usagi barely suppressed a chuckle. It was perhaps cruel, but surely a bit of teasing was allowed. He stepped even closer and watched the turtle's cheeks take on a mottled reddish green in return. "It's even more beautiful in the sunlight," he continued, dropping his voice to a low whisper. He was rewarded with a darker tint to the other's cheeks.

Leonardo licked his lips, his gaze flickering back and forth through the room. In that moment, he looked incredibly insecure, and Usagi abruptly remembered that there were no other anthropomorphic turtles in this dimension except for the four brothers, and much less any females. This… _whatever_ it was, was surely unknown territory to his friend. However much he wanted to, he mustn't make haste.

Once he had processed what he was seeing, the samurai stopped at once. As much as he enjoyed a bit of teasing, he did not wish to make the younger warrior uncomfortable.

"Usagi…" Leonardo began, obviously struggling with the situation.

"Yes?" the samurai asked, keeping his voice soft and enough space between them that their personal space was not violated and escape routes were open. He was rewarded for his patience when Leonardo's posture slowly relaxed. "I was wondering," the turtle began, more securely now that the situation seemed back under his control. His gaze was fixed on something just up and behind Usagi's shoulder. "Whether you…" he frowned. "Whether you wanted to…" And then he stopped, and a strange mixture of surprise and pain crossed his features.

Usagi's throat felt suddenly and inexplicably dry when he turned and looked behind him. But there was nothing to be seen. All he found was the domed ceiling, the training mats freckled with sunshine, and the meditation area, littered with cushions and candles...

_Candles_…

Unexpectedly, he felt a new wave of nausea roll over him. He barely felt his knees buckle before he found himself on the ground, his forehead pressed into the cold stone, gagging. His head was threatening to split in two.

All sounds were muffled, as if he were under water, but he still heard the groan and the thump when Leonardo hit the ground behind him. He, too, was gagging, heaving breath into his lungs, and Usagi wanted nothing more than to comfort him, but his own arms could barely hold himself up any longer. The samurai desperately tried to pull back from the pain, looking for a chance to retreat into the relative safety of his own mind.

_Pain is an illusion that the body creates. You can overcome it. Pain is an illusion that the body creates. None of this can reach you…_

He gasped when the throbbing seemed to increase. This wasn't possible. Pain was a bodily experience, and the main purpose of meditation was to get rid of the earthly restrictions and free the own spirit-

_The own spirit-_

With great difficulties, Usagi managed to pry his eyes open. Sure enough, the air around him was glowing faintly yellow. It reminded the samurai of Leonardo's spirit shield. But surely that wasn't possible. The very _walls_ seemed to be shielded, and so was the ceiling, and the floor…

Usagi almost forgot his headache in that very moment. Sure, he knew that a spiritual shield could be stretched, but never to protect a whole house. _Or could it?_ It wasn't like he had much experience on the matter. He had never thought about it before. Perhaps one could, if the practice were cultivated, learn to do that?

He raised his head, curiosity lending him the strength to fight the nausea back down for the moment. Walls meant nothing in this world of black light and spirits, and he could see the other three brothers scattered around the lair as clear as day. Their individual spirit flames flared brightly in the darkness.

Oh yes, he could see it now, and all of it too. The shield, Leonardo's shield, was cracking. It never _had_ been covering only the two of them. It was _everywhere_, outlining the shapes of Donatello, Raphael and Michelangelo like yellow chalk, stretching over the walls and covering the floor and ceiling like thinnest foil. This place was a sanctuary, and now it was falling apart, and blackness was oozing in.

And he remembered seeing this before, this blackness, in the form of a dot that seemed too small to be valid, and he remembered the tingle on his skin and the itch in his hands and blinking the hours away while the candles burned down, until it was dawn.

But the subconscious does not blink.

He forced himself back out of the spirit world, determined to do something against the assault. The headache decreased marginally, but now that he knew the truth, he could sense the darkness seeping through the cracks like ants on his skin, pressing against his temples like the first signs of a thunderstorm. No wonder was Leonardo having nightmares. Keeping up a shield as massive as this meant a lot of mental pressure, and whatever was trying to get past him was wearing down his subconscious.

He pushed himself up onto his knees and finally into something resembling a standing position. "Leonardo," he said, fighting to keep his voice calm when he saw his young friend on the floor, where he was holding his head and moaning softly. "Leonardo, can you hear me?"

_His mind was a dark place at the best of times, and now he found himself captured in it, wrapped into the blackness as if it were the threads of a spider's web, silken and indestructible. He was alone once more, utterly alone, and the pain was excruciating both in his mind and his heart, tearing at him, threatening to break him down once and for all…_

**Leonardo!**

A voice called out to him, almost lost beneath the pounding in his skull. And he remembered other words, said in the same voice not two days ago, while he allowed himself to be held…

_You do not have to do anything on your own if you do not wish to do it._

Leonardo opened his eyes.

He was back in the dojo. Usagi was kneeling in front of him and had one hand placed firmly on Leo's shoulder. He was sweating, his white fur sticking out in places, but the look on his face was very determined and strangely comforting.

"I'm all right," Leo managed to choke out and tried to ignore just how pathetic he sounded. Usagi wisely didn't comment. He simply got back up and offered his friend a hand.

Leo accepted it and immediately felt better, if only marginally. The headache decreased, and he found enough strength in his limbs to get back to his feet. And just like that, the strange sensation in his stomach was back. It was something akin to fear, to the thrill of excitement that he only ever felt when faced with bad odds or while standing on top of an exceptionally high building, only that he didn't feel afraid at all. He just felt… _safe_.

_Of course_, he mentally scolded himself. _I already knew that Usagi has a very strong spirit _and _medical knowledge. Whatever is messing with my brain, he is probably already on it._

"What's going on?" he inquired weakly while he allowed Usagi to pull him towards the double doors of the dojo. "What are we doing?"

"We are _going_ to talk to your brothers," Usagi replied. His eyes were even darker than usual, and he was shaking slightly; the little tremors made their way up Leonardo's arms and seemed to rattle somewhere in his chest. He didn't protest, instead he concentrated on moving his legs, which was getting harder by the second.

"Why?" he finally couldn't help but ask. They had reached the doors, stopping only for a moment to catch their breath, and Usagi still hadn't let go of his arm. He looked up then, their eyes meeting, and for once, the samurai was the first who looked away.

"Because this is a matter that concerns all of us," he replied and pushed off the wall.

"What matter?" Mikey asked innocently.

At the sound of his brother's voice, Leonardo nearly jumped out of his skin. His headache came back with full force, and his legs threatened to give out once more, forcing him to kneel down again. Usagi finally let go of his arm to bring his hands up in a protective stance, but he, too, was swaying dangerously. Mikey watched with wide eyes and his mouth wide open while the scene unfolded in front of him.

"Whoa," he said and raised his hands in an apologetic gesture. "Easy there." Usagi immediately lowered his fists and proceeded to rub at his eyes, so the young turtle took the time to help his brother up. "What's going on with you two?" he demanded, uncharacteristically serious.

Usagi took a deep breath. "Let's sit down somewhere," he suggested. Mikey nodded and hauled Leo up by the armpit. "Let's take the sofa," he said. "I'll go get the others."


	14. Questioning the facts

**AN:** _Hey guys! It's friday again! Here's your weekly update. Please let me know what you think. Let's get the action going! Also, huge thanks to Elphaba-Rose, who was a fantastic help in the making of this chapter. Any mistakes and plot holes remain purely my own, but if you point them out, I'll fix them asap. Pinky promise._

* * *

**QUESTIONING THE FACTS**

* * *

Usagi stumbled over to the sofa, not trusting himself to speak before he was safely seated. He slumped down into the cushions with a careful exhalation of breath and felt Leonardo do the same next to him. For a moment, there was silence. Then Michelangelo took a deep breath and yelled at the top of his lungs:

"DON! RAPH! COME HERE!"

It felt like the sound ruptured his eardrums and drilled itself deep into his head. Usagi couldn't help the groan that escaped him, and he pulled his ears down and over his eyes, desperately trying to block out the sound. He stiffened in surprise when he felt arms encircle him and pull him closer while Leonardo hissed at Michelangelo over the armrest of the sofa. And then he buried his head against the other's plastron, simply breathing and allowing his heart to slow down to a normal rhythm.

The position was disturbingly unfamiliar. One reason were of course the plastron plates beneath his face, but Usagi had to admit that it had just as much to do with the simple sensation of being held- of allowing someone to embrace him like this, when he was so completely defenseless. He tried to recall the last time he had anyone as close as this and failed. He almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. Here he was, after years of searching for someone to fill the dully aching gap that his first love, Mariko, had left, and of all people, he had found it in Leonardo Hamato. Leonardo, who was still so young and too grown-up for his own good and a clan leader and a brother and responsible. Leonardo, who was a ninja with a spirit strong enough to protect a house and a sense of honor as great as any samurai's.

_This is it, then, _he thought, feeling strangely light-headed. _This is the real thing, and he doesn't even realize it._

_Don't hurt him. Please don't hurt him. You know you can make this last, but he doesn't yet. Show him that you care about what he thinks. Keep a lid on yourself if you must, but don't ever keep anything a secret from him. And always ask him first, whatever you do, so that it's fine._

He heard footsteps approaching, followed by Raphael's muffled voice saying, "What is it that you wanted us for?" and then going very quiet, and he was acutely aware of what they must look like. But that was all right. From what he had seen in the last days, the other turtles suspected what was going on, and at least Michelangelo actively encouraged it. And he was so tired. Surely a moment of rest was allowed to him.

Regardless, the moment was over, and he heard Leonardo's heart stutter for a beat when reality reasserted itself. Seconds later, he was released, and he straightened up and leaned back while happiness bubbled in his chest.

"We-ell," Leo said, sounding just a bit breathless, and everything in Usagi wanted to pin this young man to the mattress and kiss him until they were both bruised, not giving a damn about who was watching. But he couldn't, not yet, because there was a threat, and the threat had to be eliminated.

_Later, we will talk about it, _he vowed silently. _When this is over, I will tell him._

Somehow, that wasn't very satisfying.

"What's up then?" Raph demanded once Donatello had joined them. Usagi was sitting on the sofa, hugging his knees to his chest, but now he straightened up and glanced around. He was sweating, his fur sticking out in places, and he was moving too carefully for it to be natural. But Leonardo couldn't help the thought that surely, nobody had ever looked grander. It was in the way the ronin held himself, with a quiet self-assurance that caused even his disobedient brothers to sit still and wait for the next steps to be laid out to them.

He felt a sudden pang of envy and quickly looked away.

"Well?" Raph insisted.

"I need to talk to all of you," Usagi said. His voice was strangely hoarse, but determined. "I am not sure whether any of you are aware of it," he let his gaze trail from one brother to the next and was met with three blank stares, "but at this very moment, we are under attack."

He felt Leonardo go very still next to him in a way that rose the hairs all up his arms and on his neck and made him shiver. There was a new air of focused control about his friend, a tension that hadn't been there a moment before. _He knows about the spirit, _Usagi thought with a sudden clarity. _He has probably known about it all this time, and yet he didn't say anything, didn't tell his brothers about it, didn't tell _me_ about it… What was he thinking? _

But that wasn't the real question. Usagi already knew the answer to that one. He'd been there. He felt long-buried memories bubble up in his chest and had to swallow hard to force the bitter taste they brought along back down. Once, not that many years ago, he'd been convinced that he'd have to die for his friends at some point, because they all led dangerous lives, and surely he would be the first in the fray, the first with an arrow in his side. It had filled him with a strange sense of pride back then, to know that he'd willingly take the killing blow for someone he loved, and it taken him a disturbingly long time to realize that they felt exactly the same, and that it wasn't anything to feel particularly glorious about.

_It's_ _because of his pride, then, and his twisted sense of self and his false protective instincts. It's because he's young and foolish. But he is not me. He had led this clan through so many frays that he ought to know better. And still, he knew what was going on, and he didn't tell me, and now we are all in danger._

And the others noticed it, too; he could see it in the tension in Raphael's shoulders and the lines of Donatello's face and the way Michelangelo had gone all quiet and alert in his armchair, and when Raphael said, "what is he talking about," his voice was a low-pitched growl that had every single one of Usagi's self-preservative instincts screaming and left his lungs quivering.

"That is none of your concern," Leonardo said, dangerously flat, and Usagi wanted nothing more but to jump him and shake some sense into this stubborn boy who so strongly believed that he had to shoulder the weights of the world on his own.

_That is not the way, _he told himself, trying to get a hold of this anger. _He is young. He will learn. _But it was no use. His former thoughts echoed in his head, reminding him to be gentle, but the truth was that they really didn't have that kind of time. He needed to get things straight that instant. So instead he spat out, with as much spite as he could muster, "you are a _fool_, Leonardo, and you are going to sacrifice them all for _nothing_." He raised his voice when the young ninja started to object. "They are perfectly capable to help you, but you won't let them, because you think it's your place alone to defend this family, and if _you_ can't stop whatever is coming at you, then surely _they_ never could. You are willing to get all of us killed just to prove that you are better. But I have news for you, Leonardo: You are not better, you are not above them, and whatever you may think, you are not. That. Important."

This time, when he collapsed backwards and heaved deep breaths into his lungs, he was shaking more with anger than with anything else.

He had expected some sort of snarky comeback, of resistance, and he was both relieved and immediately ridden by guilt when all he heard was a very quiet, "I am sorry."

"Leo," Donatello whispered, visibly shocked, and his voice was as taut and blank as all their nerves, "_what is happening_?"

***T*M*N*T***

He needed to hurry. Something was happening to his sons. He was needed elsewhere, and quick.

But this needed to be done, and it needed to be done by him.

The old temple buildings rose from the flat earth as if grown there, their stone plates seemingly unmarred by time and vegetation. The plants seemed to shrink back from them, to retreat, and Splinter hadn't seen another living thing ever since he entered the carved walls. Everything in him was screaming at him to run. But he couldn't leave, not yet, not after all he'd endured to get this far. He needed to finish this.

There were three buildings, arranged in a triangle, with a stone square in the middle that seemed to be carved out of one gigantic plate, as smooth and unrelenting as marble and too cold to the touch to be natural amidst the heat of the jungle. Two of the buildings had been empty except for age-old drawings on the walls and ceilings. At first, Splinter had studied them with great interest. But as time passed by, and the images repeated themselves over and over again, he stopped less and less often to admire them, all senses focused on his original task, while the prophecy the Ancient One had read to him echoed in his mind.

_Once upon a time, there was great darkness. And the great darkness took root in the hearts of men and all that lived on the surface of the earth, and it swallowed the stars, and it swallowed the sun, and it seeped deep into the cores of the world serpent and poisoned all life. And the gods saw what happened, but they could not destroy the darkness, because that meant destroying all of mankind and the whole of their creation, and that they could not do. And they asked for a way, and they asked among the heavens but received no answer, and they asked among the spirits of men, and the spirits of men answered them. And the darkness was banned, and it was sealed, and it was hidden from the hearts it had so poisoned. But there could not be light without shadow nor trust without failure, and there could not be closure without an opening, because such is the balance of things and the ways of the world. And the gods declared the hearts of men saved from the poison, but they could not stop their creation from wishing, and the unfulfilled wishes from giving birth to a new darkness. And they said, for all that is, a thousand things are not, and those things must not return, but once they had been wished they could never be undone. And the gods took the things that were not and made them into stone, and made them a temple and hid in it the great darkness. And men dreamt and wished, and their wishes were or were not, and the temple grew in stones, and the gods shrouded it in the spirit of the world serpent. And the prophecy was written, and it was written that there was a great storm coming, and somebody would lose to that storm because it was possible, and somebody would stand up to that storm because it was possible, and somebody would defeat that storm because it was possible also. And it was written into the skins of men, and sealed with the spirits of men, and the world serpent slept onwards._

"A breeze has sprung up," the Ancient One had said, and Splinter still felt the chill in his bones at the words, even now, because he could sense it too.

He hurried his pace when he crossed the stone square and only stopped when he reached the doorway of the third temple building. The air was achingly dry but cool, only reinforcing his desire to get out of this place as quickly as possible. The chill seemed to creep up through his paws, seeping into his mind and slowing him down even further. He shook himself to get rid of the feeling and hurried onwards.

There was only a single hallway, stretching into the darkness before him. Splinter couldn't help but think that this whole place had a sort of unfinished look about it. Unlike the other two buildings, he noticed chips in the stones, windows that were just an inch too wide, stone plates with the colors just a bit off. The further he went, the less accurate and colorful the wall paintings became. His whiskers twitched, trying to catch a scent, but he found nothing but cool air. It reminded him the way Donatello had explained space- a complete void where sound and scent were meaningless because it held no molecules to transport them.

_Donatello…_

He kept walking.

***T*M*N*T***

"So you are saying that a gigantic, evil _spirit thing_ is trying to break into our lair and you _didn't_ think to _mention_ it before?"

Donatello's voice cracked. He was close to hysterics, his nails digging into the armchair cushions hard enough that the knuckles had turned white. Michelangelo and Raphael were both as still as statues in their respective seats, not saying anything, but their eyes told a completely different story. They looked angry, even showed traces of fear, but beneath that, their gazes were strangely calculating where they rested on Leonardo and Usagi on the sofa.

Leonardo had done the talking, though he hadn't actually said all that much. There was something out there, and it was trying to get in. He'd first noticed it weeks ago, but hadn't thought much of it. New York City had always been a great force of attraction for all kinds of spirits and beings, he reasoned. Besides, it wasn't as if the thing had done anything. It had simply watched them with a kind of detached interest that had been easy enough to block out.

Then Splinter had left for a couple of days, presumably to meet with the Ancient One somewhere mid-country and talk about one thing or another. He'd only been back for hours before leaving on another trip. This time, nobody knew where he went. That had been over a week ago. He was supposed to come back within the next days.

"I didn't know you shielded the whole lair," Mikey said very quietly.

Leo looked up at the words, suddenly thoughtful. "I don't, normally. I only shield the four of us. Splinter does the full job, I think. Sometimes I feel like Master Yoshi plays a role in it as well. I only took over when Sensei left. It was just for a couple of days. I didn't think anything of it." He sounded apologetic, but his eyes were defiant.

"I didn't know you shielded us," Mikey said. This time, Leo did look sorry, and just a hint angry as well.

"When did you start?" Raph asked before the tension they all felt rising could uncoil. Leo met his eyes steadily when he replied. "When sensei first taught us how it works. I started it as a training exercise, but then you all stopped trying and kind of moved on, and… Well. Someone had to do it," he finished lamely.

Raph's eyes were solemn when he considered this. "That was six years ago."

"Yes."

"I'm sorry then."

It could have been one of those rare moments where everyone forgives themselves and finds a solution that ultimately leads to a happy ending. But Don still looked on the brink of sanity, Mikey's expression had turned sour, and Usagi hugged his knees to his chest with enough force to actually quiver with the tension of it, and then the moment was over.

"This is going to be about meditation, innit?" Mikey asked, visibly resigned. Leo nodded, not trusting himself to speak. His headache had gotten much better in the course of the last minutes, and while he didn't know whether talking to his brothers was causing it, he was immensely grateful. But they were still in danger. He could feel the _thing_ out there, tearing at his shields, eating away at them bit by bit, and the truth was, he was afraid.

"And then what?" Raph said. "Are we going to stay here? Is that safe?"

"Well, where do you want to go?" Don shot back, eyes wild. "April's? The rooftops? Hampton? And what about sensei? Do you want to leave him a message on the fridge, saying, _sorry, we're out defeating a giant spirit monster, by the way look out because it's coming at you_?!"

_Relax_, Leo wanted to say, except there was no reason to. Donatello was right. They didn't have many choices readily available, especially with Splinter absent. He was convinced that their sensei could handle himself, but then he had thought the same about him and his brothers, and here they were.

For just a moment, he felt his concentration slip on the dangerous slope of doubt, and at once he braced himself, half-convinced of a new mental assault. But nothing happened. "Don is right," he said aloud, mentally scolding himself for his fear, at the same time that Raph said, "What?"

"I said Don is…" He followed Raph's gaze and his voice trailed off. Usagi sat next to him, staring at nothing. The samurai had gone very still, the way people do who have just gotten their lungs pierced by a dagger and try to convince themselves that it's not that bad, as long as they don't look down.

_He is reinforcing my barriers, _Leo thought with sudden alarm. _That's why I didn't feel anything right now. But he can't keep it up._ _And now we're both breaking. We _need_ to retreat _now_._

"We're moving to the dojo," he said, falling into the leader role easily now that he had made the decision. "Don, get anything you deem necessary from the lab. Mike, go grab some food from the kitchen. Raph, you and Usagi go in and secure the place. I'll grab some blankets and meet you there in five. I have no idea what will happen once I let go of my shield. Maybe nothing. But I want us to be prepared for all eventualities."

The others nodded and got up, moving with swift efficiency. Usagi followed Raphael back to the dojo, shifting his mental focus to the blue paper doors just in time to feel the hostile spirit do the same. _It's listening to us, _he thought with sick fascination. _This is worse than I anticipated. What does it _want_?!_

He had sensed Raphael's barely concealed anger before, and so he was ready for the words when they came. Sure enough, as soon as the doors of the dojo were closed, the hot-tempered turtle was on him.

"You don't get to talk to my brother like that."

"Do you really think this is the time?" Usagi replied coolly. Raphael's eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer.

"No time like the present."

"Let's hear it then."

He was being deliberately cocky, and he could watch the other's temper rising by the second. This was it, then. The showdown. The samurai had seen it coming from the beginning- he, the intruder, easily taking what wasn't his, and Raphael, the protector, defending his brothers against the outside world that had so often betrayed them before. While he didn't think that they had any second to spare for this, he at the same time found his fingers itching. He had been forced to sit still for too long. He needed a release, and from the looks of it, so did Raphael.

"You will not talk to him that way," Raphael growled. "I won't have it."

Usagi could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rising and fought to keep his composure. "Fine. What are you going to do about it?" he asked, honestly curious. "I've seen you with him. I haven't done anything back there that you haven't already done a thousand times over."

Raphael's eyes were blazing with fury when he stepped even closer. "That's different, and you know it!"

"I honestly can't say I do."

And now they had reached an impasse, because there was no way Raphael could justify his own actions and condone Usagi's at the same time. The truth was, they had both wronged Leonardo, and they both knew it. When Raphael spoke again, he sounded reluctant.

"It's different because you are older," he said. Usagi's brows rose in astonishment, but the younger ninja wasn't done yet. "I keep thinking, I'm young now, I'm bound to be foolish, y'know? And I'm gonna grow up and it'll get better and I'll stop behaving like that. Stop letting my temper get the best o'me like that. And here you are, you're what, twenty? You're an adult in any case, and you're _just the same_. 'S not right, is what I'm saying.

I love him, though. He's my brother, and I love him, and I know that he knows that. What's _your_ excuse? Face it, you don't have one." He pointed an accusing finger at Usagi. "He's our leader. He makes the decisions. They are not always good, but they are his. And here _you_ are, stomping in like you own da place! And you're- you're _dishonoring_ him, dishonoring _my family _right under my nose, and that is gonna stop _right now_ if I have to make it."

It took two seconds for Usagi to kick Raphael's legs out from under him and pin him against one of the stone pillars, his eyes thunderous. "I will not have you question my honor," he whispered, his voice cold and sharp and dangerous. "But I can see where you are coming from, so I will let you in on two little secrets, _Raphael-san_." He could feel the other's heart beat wildly with adrenaline, but Raphael held still, his amber-colored eyes fixed on Usagi's onyx ones. "One, I do love him. Don't doubt that. I do." He watched Raphael's Adam's apple bob when he swallowed, and suddenly he felt oddly empty. "And two," and he lowered his voice even further, all the fight going out of him in that moment, "it doesn't change anything, because it doesn't _ever_ get easier."

He got up and turned around, watching the sunshine filter through the windows with a faraway look in his eyes. He heard Raphael get up behind him, but didn't acknowledge it until the turtle stood next to him.

"I'm sorry."

"No, you aren't," Usagi replied, not looking up. "I know, because I'm not sorry either." He did raise his head then, giving Raphael a crooked smile that the other returned somewhat awkwardly.

For a moment, they stood in silence, each lingering on their own thoughts, until Raph said in a manner that was obviously teasing except for the edge to his words that was not, "you do love him, then."

Usagi took a deep breath, both to fight the nausea and the sudden nervousness back down. "Yes," he said honestly. "I do."

They stood like that until the door opened and Michelangelo stepped in, loaded with food. Then they watched with barely concealed amusement while the youngest of the four brothers continued to unpack all kinds of food into the shelves that lined the dojo walls. He had brought bread and milk and water and cheese, but most of it was bags, printed with curious names like CHEETOS and CHOCOVO.

"Trying and failing to be a responsible adult," Raph muttered, but he was grinning. Usagi couldn't help but chuckle at the words.

"By the way," he said when Mikey joined them to admire his work from afar, "I am twenty-three years old."

"Awesome. I want to be twenty-three when I grow up!" Mikey said with a giggle.

Over the top of his head, Raphael and Usagi shared a smile. It wasn't all fine, but for the moment, it would have to do.


	15. Spirited away

**AN: **_To clear up any and all confusion left, I will let you in on my personal timeline for this fic. It is set in the TMNT2k3!verse in Season 3, before the episode REALITY CHECK, which __is the start of the REAL WORLD storyarc. (SAINW anyone?) So to clarify this: Leo has been pushed around by Shredder's goons, healed (somewhat) but still feels a failure at times; the guys have met the Utroms, they have defeated the Triceratons, met Ue, bee__n to the Nexus dimension, and later all met up on Christmas. Leo has not yet been sent away to train with the Ancient One. I have mentioned the old fart in a former chapter and I will correct that soon; until then, I apologize for the mistake._

_I changed th__e timeline slightly, which turns this story into an AU (although not by much). Just so you know: EXODUS, which leads to the Shredder being exiled, has already happened, which is the reason for his prolonged absence._

_The chapters are getting longer and longer! Good for you! Kudos to Elphaba-Rose again. I hope things are a bit clearer now. If anyone finds a mistake, it's solely mine, but feel free to point it out so that I can fix it.  
_

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**SPIRITED AWAY  
**

* * *

Usagi's defense was crumbling.

It took Leonardo exactly five minutes and twenty-nine seconds to join his friend and his brothers in the dojo, loaded with not only the promised blankets but also all their weapons except Raphael's sai, which the hothead carried with him at nearly every waking moment. Usagi kept his eyes closed, fully submerged in the spirit world that had turned so much darker in the short time that had passed; but if anything, it made Leonardo's appearance in the dojo more obvious to him. In the world of lights that was the astral plane, the young ninja seemed to be glowing with yellow light. Of course, his brothers' spirit flames were just as present, but they all seemed to be dimmed by the strong, never wavering presence that was Leonardo. Michelangelo's spiritual powers had to be especially weak in comparison, to the point where Usagi could no longer make out an individual flame to the youngest's body; the sight of an outline without any corresponding substance filled the samurai with a strange unease, and he quickly turned his attention back to the matters that concerned him most.

The moment the paper doors slid closed, Usagi dropped all his remaining defenses for the rest of the lair and concentrated solely on the dojo. He could see the flame that was Leonardo falter for a moment before flaring up with new intensity when his friend sensed the change and adjusted, and he was once again amazed at the strength that the younger man possessed. It had always seemed strange to Usagi that while a person's body would simply be outlined in the spirit world, their minds were displayed as fire; now he thought for the first time that maybe, there was a deeper reason behind it that he could work out, if he had the time.

His blades were put down next to him, and without otherwise moving he stretched his fingers and touched the sheath of his katana, feeling the faint pulse that perfectly mirrored his own. He never should have left the blades in Leonardo's room, should have thought of collecting them sooner; they were as much a part of him as his arms were, or his ears, or his eyes, a vital organ even, and he took the first deep breath in hours at the contact.

There was a sudden shift in the air. It would have been barely perceptible if not for the fact that in the spirit world, everything was connected. A shift in one area affected the whole plane, and the ripples went through the delicate fabric and grew into waves. In a split second of absolute stillness, Usagi realized his own mistake: By reducing the shielded space, it automatically followed that the space that _was_ shielded would be under a lot more pressure from the outside, and the black spirit crashed down-

***T*M*N*T***

There was a moment of silence when Leo entered the dojo, carrying not only the desired blankets but also all their weapons with him. Raph automatically reached for his own sai, as if to reassure himself that they were still there, while Mikey and Don accepted their respective weapons from their oldest brother with more hesitance. Leo took one long look at Usagi, who was sitting a few feet off with his eyes closed and his hands clasped loosely in his lap, before walking over and carefully laying the two black-sheathed blades that he was holding down on the tatami mats next to his friend.

He was startled out of his thoughts when Mikey scooted closer to the pair, looking up at the older turtle with wide eyes. "Why do you think we need our weapons?" he asked in a small voice.

Leo sat down between him and Usagi and rolled his shoulders once before settling into his meditation pose.

"Just in case," he replied. "As I said, I want us to be prepared for all eventualities."

There was a shift in the air, barely perceptible hadn't he been waiting for it. Something was changing on a spiritual level. He took a deep breath, readying himself, but still the sudden increase of the pressure on his shields startled him. The time had come to carry out the rest of his plan: drop the shields around the lair and concentrate fully on the room they were in.

Without opening his eyes, Usagi reached out and tentatively put his fingertips against the black metal sheaths that held his blades. At once, his posture seemed more relaxed, with a deeper focus, and Leo smiled inwardly. Samurai and his blades, he thought with a trace of affection before closing his own eyes and shifting his mental focus inwards. Although, he had to admit, it did help to know he only needed to reach out to have his own weapons at hand. Sometimes they seemed to have a mind of their own, blocking and striking almost on their own accord, and even now he could feel the faint pulse against his back that mirrored his heartbeat. He never voiced these thoughts in fear of sounding silly to his brothers, but he could not deny that the presence of his swords on his shell centered him somehow.

As if from a distance, he heard Donatello mutter under his breath. "We can't fight spirits with these weapons," he said. Raphael chuckled in response. "Leave it, Donnie," he replied. "Fearless needs to focus."

_I'm not fearless, _Leo wanted to say, but he pushed that thought from his mind. His daily worries were not helping his concentration. He needed to reach past them for now. The astral world flickered to life before his inner eye, outlining the bodies of his family in strange colors and blurring where their spirit flames blocked his sight. Raphael, in the weird, dark blue that was unique to him and that never seemed to change, shadowed by his bottled-up emotions but never turning any darker. Donatello, with his rich orange that danced into all directions at once, always so unfocused in fear of overlooking something interesting…

Michelangelo's shape was harshly outlined, his own spirit flame hidden beneath layers and layers of pale yellow and white...

And, of course, Usagi's spirit, which was flaring in the brightest blue Leonardo had ever seen, stretching outwards and lighting up the walls and the ceiling like the blue haze before distant mountains. Leo frowned when he realized that his friend's whole focus was now on the dojo, and that the black spirit seemed to have followed them here. No wonders he felt so strangely unbalanced. Cautiously, he peeled his shield away from the upstairs bedrooms, then the kitchen area.

Nothing seemed to happen except for a new wave of strength that washed over him and eased his breathing. He had almost forgotten what it was like to feel completely settled, meditating without the distraction of his own energy leaving his body. Automatically, he adjusted his seat and relaxed his shoulders, taking another deep breath. Then he dropped every single shield that he had built up around the walls and ceiling of their home, intending to rebuild them on a smaller scale within the protection that Usagi was offering.

Although, he realized belatedly, Usagi was really just re-enforcing where his own shield had begun to crack or leak. A spike of fear broke through the headiness that resulted from the energy flow when he concentrated, really concentrated, and saw the blue lines that remained, net-like, while the yellow glow died away from the walls. And no way did Usagi have the experience and mental strength to build up a suitable replacement in time. Leo did not doubt his friend's strength, but there were some things that had to be trained, and the rabbit had simply never had a reason to train in this particular area.

For a split second, everything went absolutely still, as if the world were holding its breath. Like black smoke, the dark spirit coiled into a deep black mass before stretching its tendrils through the gaps in Usagi's network and around the individual branches. Leo watched in horror while the blue threads dissolved, one by one, and then he thrust outwards with everything his mind could give, just in time to see Usagi's spirit flame flare up for the last time before it disappeared and his world was plunged into darkness.

***T*M*N*T***

_The silence in the room was absolute, and so was the darkness. Her mind whispered voices into her ears that were not there while the blackness swallowed even her footsteps, until she was no longer __sure she was even moving, that her eyes were open at all._

_She stopped. The silence continued on, but with a new quality. _It_ was waiting, she was sure. Waiting for what, she could no longer tell._

_"This is taking too long," she said, or she thought she said__, because her voice was swallowed up by the silence and made non-existent. She did not like to admit it, but _it_ never stopped to unnerve her. "You promised me a fast solution."_

That is still true. _The voices were everywhere, booming inside her head and tin__gling in her fingertips, powerful and old. _Many things have happened that need to be undone. Many things have not happened and turned into stone. And our power is still weak.

_She refrained from commenting on that, instead carefully workigng out what her ne__xt words should be. "I have already given you all that I could," she finally said. "What else do you need?"_

A body.

_This time, she could not hide the shiver that crept up her arms. "I have offered you bodies," she said and hated herself for the fear in her__ voice._

We have already chosen. The time is near. Your wish will be granted.

_She simply nodded, no longer trusting herself to speak. When she turned and left the room, it took all her remaining willpower not to run. Her head was pounding again. She walked __a longer __route back to her own quarters, her footsteps too loud and her breathing too shallow, and took an extra headache pill before settling down for the night._

_It didn't help._

***T*M*N*T***

There wasn't even a conscious thought behind it. Leonardo simply took all the spiritual energy from his shields and wrapped it around Usagi. He had a horrible sensation of being too full and completely hollow at the same time when the energy flowed through him and further into the black gap that should hold a blue flame.

_Take me, _he begged silently. _Take all my energy if you have to. __You can. It's yours, it's all yours. __But please, be okay. Please, please, please be okay._

All around him, the familiar not-light that was the astral plane faded into true black as if covered by ink. There was nothing left between him, between his family and the spirit. Nothing but his own mind. And he was so tired. Such a thin layer. And so much darkness. How was that even possible? His thoughts felt heavy, thinking was like wading through mud; and Usagi was so still, and barely a spark, but he had to be all right, he had to be, just had to; what would Leo do without him? There wasn't anything left. If he couldn't save his best friend, if he couldn't save the people he loved, then what was left for him?

He pushed harder into the vast blackness that now held a spark, flickering, brimming, _alive_.

But he still felt so hollow, so tired. Maybe he just needed to sleep, just for a few minutes…

_You can stop now. It is all right. You have done enough; stop._

No. No, he couldn't sleep yet; he mustn't. He needed to protect his brothers.

Movement returned to the world, and with it the strange sensation of being crushed by a very real weight as opposed to a mental one. It took him a second to assess the situation: His brothers. They were close, too close almost, with Mikey half on top of him, and their emotions were running wild, dancing and flaring. They were upset, he realized belatedly. Why were they upset?

_We will need them, _the voice whispered.

Only now did Leo notice that it was not his own mind speaking, nor was it the spirit. _Usagi_. The samurai was a shape bathed in pale yellow, but there were blue threads running through it, so bright that they seemed almost white. Weaving through his own energy like embroidery, strengthening it, _changing it._

He didn't mind. It didn't feel uncomfortable, just different. Leo very nearly sobbed in relief. Usagi was alive.

_We will need all of them,_the voice- Usagi -repeated. _It is time to put a stop to this insanity. Talk to them. We will find a way. Together, we will find a way. There is no need to despair__ just yet__. You can stop crying._

"I'm not crying," Leo said, and the physical world snapped back into focus. His own voice sounded strange in his ears, too thick and too slow. When he opened his eyes, he found Mikey's face inches from his own, and he flinched back in surprise, barely stifling a gasp.

Mikey mirrored his movement, automatically bringing his hands up in defense. "All right," he said cautiously. "I get it. You're not crying. That's just random water on your face. Happens to the best of us."

Leo couldn't help it; he barked out a laugh, harsh and foreign and raw, before bringing his hands up to check. Sure enough, there were tears on his face; his mask was wet as well, and he hesitated for only a moment before removing it and putting it down next to him on the tatami mats.

When he looked up again, his brothers were still crowded around him, and they were definitely too close for his own comfort. "Personal space, guys," he half-laughed. "I'm fine, I promise." And he was, strangely enough. The weight that was the spirit was still pressing down on him, but he felt no longer crushed by it. His brothers did not look too convinced, but they leaned back, forming a lose circle again.

"What happened?" Mikey demanded. "You went all quiet and focused, and I thought, well, here we go again, and suddenly it's five degrees in the room and you shout something in Japanese and Usagi just falls over and stops breathing, and you start crying, and everything goes kind of dark and-"

He stopped when Leo flinched and turned to where Usagi was indeed lying flat on his back, utterly still. He felt like crying again when the samurai opened his eyes and gave him a tired half-smile. "Sorry," the rabbit whispered. "Felt like lying down for a moment."

"Thank goodness," Don whispered. "It's not just you, then, Leo?" He waited for the eldest to shake his head in confirmation before continuing with a sigh. "I feared as much. Probably, everyone in the city with a strong spirit is affected."

"No way to check," Leo replied, not taking his eyes off his best friend on the floor. Usagi's eyes were drifting shut again. "I don't know that many New Yorkers who are spiritually trained."

"I can think of at least one," Don replied softly. "And so can you."

Leo's whole posture stiffened, but he didn't answer. He didn't have to. They all knew who Don meant. _Oroku Karai_.

"Let's worry about that later," he said, casting another glance at Usagi. "Are you okay?"

The samurai vaguely waved a hand, not bothering to open his eyes. "Fine. Just… concentrating. Floor is comfortable."

There was a space between breaths when the world became crystal clear, the way it is when you just wake up and everything is light, and before the feeling faded away again, Leo reached out and took Usagi's hand.

His friend did not open his eyes, but neither did he flinch or pull away. He simply put a grip on the green fingers in his and held on.

Leo took a deep breath and looked at each of his brothers in turn. "Mike, you said that earlier, everything went dark," he said. "Is it still that way?"

"Kind of," his youngest brother replied with an unnaturally thoughtful expression on his face. "Everything is shaded over. What did happen earlier, anyway?"

"The shield is gone," Leo said simply. Instinctively, Don huddled closer to his brothers while Raph reached for his weapons, and the eldest felt his heart swell with pride for all of them. Because they were still safe. Because they were still fighting. Because they were still here, after all that had happened, and either they would leave this room together, or not at all.

"All right, revise plans," he said, raising his voice to gain their attention. "What is our greatest weakness?"

"Mikey," Raph said without a thought. He raised his arms in defense when his youngest brother protested. "Hey! It's true! You're shit at meditating!"

"I had a lot of extra lessons with Sensei!" Michelangelo squeaked, obviously upset by the implications. "Besides, you're not much better!"

Leo took a deep breath that somehow caused instantaneous silence. "Right," he said. "Now, what is our greatest strength?"

"Also Mikey," Don said, causing his younger brother to beam at him in response. Raph snorted, but did not argue.

Leo nodded, deep in thought. "You only just noticed it?" he said aloud when he felt Usagi's hand tighten around his own. "I know it's hard to spot when you're not looking for it." Mikey smiled, a hint of unease deepening the lines around his mouth, and Leo stopped and squeezed the hand in his one last time before concentrating on the next steps again.

By now, all four brothers had settled into the meditation pose and tried to even out their breathing, not entirely successful. There was a stretch of silence in which they were each pondering about how to use what they had to their advantage. It _was_ true- Michelangelo had by far the finest sensibility to the spiritual plane, though he seldom used it; he was usually too caught up in whatever else happened to hold his interest at the time. Don had once diagnosed him with ADHS, but Leo was more convinced that his brother's behavior was a kind of self-defense mechanism. The astral plane could be a scary place, and Mikey preferred to keep a lid on it, along with his own powers…

_When you see those pictures, those memories, _Usagi's question from nights ago suddenly replayed in his head, _where in them are _you_?_

_In his dream, __he was on Brooklyn Bridge, fighting for his life. There he stood, just on the edge above the water, while the green smoke coiled around his feet like snakes, and suddenly he found himself defenseless, and a blade in his stomach and his head over the edge w__hile his blood colored the puddles pink, only he did not see water when he looked down, he saw himself, dead, and when he rushed forward, there was a barrier in the way, glowing and blue and unyielding, and he screamed at himself to _wake up_-_

_Raphael was in__ rage, that much was obvious. But it was just a joke, a mild tease… The world tilted when Mikey fell backwards over a stray brick, then righted himself when he tried to get up again; and there was a pipe in Raphael's hands, swinging in a wide arch, and he __stumbled over air- no, _Leonardo_ stumbled over air, and the metal came closer to his face where he lay on the ground, defenseless, and he felt something crack inside him while his eldest brother screamed-_

_He watched the battle between Leo and Usagi on the w__ide screen that was put up above the northern tribunes of the Nexus arena. The swords were dancing in the air with a grace that he almost envied, a weightless beauty that his own nunchucks could never achieve. He saw his brother's eyes widen and him sidest__ep when something flew past him; a moment of relief that turned into horror when Usagi toppled and fell; and then Leo's voice, from a great distance, sobbing, no-_

_WHERE ARE _YOU?

"I wish Splinter were here," Don muttered, and Leo's eyes flew open.

On the far wall of the dojo, in a world that had turned dark, a blue light flickered and took form of a door.


	16. Splintering reality

**AN:** _This chapter was the hardest thing I have ever written. I find myself unable to do Splinter justice, and I apologize for any and all inconsistencies that derive from his character, the nature of this fic, or the fact that I am German. Any mistakes made are solely my own, but if you find any, feel free to drop me a review or a PM so I can fix them._**  
**

_I hope you enjoy._

* * *

**SPLINTERING REALITY**

* * *

He had been wrong, but by the time he realized his mistake, it was already too late.

On first glance, the third temple building seemed much like the first two. The differences were visible only when one looked very closely, or was brave enough to pass the first two hallways, after which they became quite obvious. The angles were all wrong, adding up to uneven numbers that made Splinter's head spin. The paintings that covered the walls, formerly held in rich and strong reds and blues and yellows, were fainter here, peeling off in places. And of course there was the smell.

Or, rather, wasn't.

His whiskered quivered when he tried to catch a scent and failed. He felt captured in a vacuum again, deafened and muted by the everlasting silence that swallowed even his footsteps and the sound of his breathing. Something was clearly wrong, but he preferred not to think about it too much. _Things _moved at the edges of his vision. The rat refrained from turning to look at them more closely, mostly because he was convinced that they would simply move with him and that the attempt would be futile.

Also, but that thought was buried much deeper, because he was not sure he actually wanted to see them at all.

At first, he had thought that the strange atmosphere originated from the fact that the temple was still being built. It would have explained the unfinished look quite easily. However, it did nothing to account for the fact that before his very eyes, the paint bled from the walls and dissolved into thin air.

He had missed something that was now painfully clear. This place was not in the making. It was dissolving, and he was stuck quite firmly in the middle of it.

He stopped, staring at the wall in frustration. He should have realized that sooner. How thoughtless to have come here, on a quest doomed to fail, and how fruitless his attempts had been so far! He ought to leave as soon as possible. Clearly, there was nothing left for him to gain here.

The shadows- they were shadows, he realized, albeit not his own, moving up and down the walls like spiders, like living things- hovered just behind him and to his right, and the sensation of being watched sent a shiver up his spine that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room.

But in the end, there really was only one thing to do about it.

He continued walking.

And with every step he took, the temple dissolved further.

Another few minutes later found him staring at the walls again. He watched the colors bleed from the wall and seep away into the growing cracks in the floor with detached interest. The earlier worry was gone, replaced by a strange numbness. Thinking felt like wading through mud, and the fatigue of travelling all this way by foot made it even harder for him to concentrate.

_I should have rested earlier, _he thought. _How foolish of me to believe I could just get in and out again before sunset._

The shadows were still watching him. There were more now, following him down the hallway. They were still hovering at the edges of his vision, but when he focused on them, he could make out vague shapes. They looked almost human. At the sight, the old fear of discovery crept back into his mind. He turned his head away and concentrated on the path in front of him instead.

There was no going back now. He had gone too far to turn around and leave. Splinter no longer consciously chose to continue walking. It was a simple matter of putting one foot in front of the other. The possibility of him leaving did no longer exist in this world. At some point earlier, he had made the decision to go, and so that was what he did.

In another universe, things might have been different. But then again, maybe not. They were all bleeding into one another now. Borders had no meaning anymore. Mankind had provided the soil and the base of this temple for long enough; it was time for the harvest.

The paint was entirely gone, but new patterns appeared in the cracks of the walls and ceiling, oozing black that curled down and crept over the floor like living smoke.

Of course Splinter noticed, but it went right past him. Everything had narrowed down to the next step, and the next one after that. He ought to be more worried, he thought vaguely. He ought to rethink his strategy.

His paws kept walking while his mind mulled this over. What _was_ he doing here? There was a purpose behind his actions. To consider anything else was laughable. He had _chosen_ to be here. Why? Because he had been worried. He was no longer worried, but maybe he ought to be. There. That was a plausible line of argument.

Worried about what?

_Whom_. Worried about _whom_.

He couldn't remember. Worrisome, all of it. Maybe it was the age finally getting to him. But that was ridiculous. He knew that his sons saw him as someone ancient, someone with enough years to back up his words. Really, he was three, maybe four years older than them, but that was quite an age already for a rat. The color of his fur was coincidence, of course. Whatever the case, it made them listen to him, so he supposed it was worth it.

And yet he had seen so much more, lived through so much more. It had all served to make him all that more protective of his young sons. After all they had been through, they had preserved that spark of innocence that he had lost decades ago, long before he had grown intelligent enough to recognize the ache for what it was. They had never had to experience true loss before, and he was not about to change that.

But if age was not the reason for his amnesia, then what had made him forget his own fam-

He stopped walking. There was no point to it anymore. The walls had completely dissolved, molten down into something black that seemed to be moving, although he could no longer be sure. Only now did the dread catch up with him, and he shivered against the sudden chill in the air. He remembered now. _A breeze has sprung up, _and indeed, he felt it in his bones. He had been worried about his sons, of course. It was his sole fear, his greatest nightmare, that something should happen to them. Eighteen years of caring about them, and now the darkness threatened to swallow it all.

How careless of him.

Splinter did not close his eyes before he took the next step. Instead, he opened them.

At first, he could not perceive any difference to his former predicament, and that was what truly brought him back to his senses. The spirit world was completely covered in blackness. The not-light that always served to fill him with a sense of peace was gone, replaced by utter darkness, and it snarled at him when he concentrated on it, like something vicious and alive.

This was dangerous ground to tread on. Extinguishing a person's spirit flame was no easy task, but if it was done, it meant certain death. It could only be achieved by completely cutting off the energy flows that connected the person to the outside world. Few spirits were great enough to do so.

But then this was not a real spirit at all, Splinter reminded himself. It was the very opposite of one.

Take all the light away, and what is left is profound darkness, solid enough to build a temple with.

But combine all the light into one and what you get is…

_Ah._

There it was: the white thread. Once he had found it, it seemed impossible to miss. It hung in the void like a solid line, beckoning him to follow it. _This_ was why he was here. He had almost lost sight of it, but this was the path he had been following from the very beginning. The white thread: root of his distress and the way to solve this mess at the same time. In the coiling black mass, it was an unwavering constant; and Splinter knew without a doubt that it would take him to what he was looking for.

He did not know whether it was his physical or his astral body that straightened up and walked along the bright line. It no longer mattered. In this world, it was all the same.

Perhaps some time passed. Perhaps it did not.

The darkness was absolute, but this close, Splinter no longer needed his sight. He could hear it, could feel the vibrations in his chest, invoking an unease in him that went much deeper than simple fear- this was the primal suspicion that something was irrevocably _wrong_, that there was something nearby that was simply _not good_, no matter how one looked at it…

_Thu-thump.  
Thu-thump.  
Thu-thump._

The white thread stopped in mid-air.

_This is the place, _Splinter thought grimly. _This is where it all ends._

"You are mistaken, old friend," a soft voice replied. The old rat stood still while one of the shadows walked past him, outlined by nothing but a vague, bright edge. He did not move when said shadow came to a halt a few feet in front of him, nor when it turned and its eyes found his.

"This is where it starts."

_The sun shone down on the small stone garden with the full intensity of summer. The air was thick with the heady scent of blooming flowers and freshly cut grass, and the breeze carried the voices of the small gathering outside far through the house, down the hallways and past the paper doors: whispers that turned into shouts and finally into one blood-curling scream…_

"Hello, Splinter," Tang Shen said.

His eyes widened, but he still did not move. "This is an illusion," he said. "You are not real." He was surprised by how sad his own voice sounded. Mostly, he just felt numb.

"I am as real as you wish me to be," she replied softly.

No. This was all wrong. She was dead, and so was his Master, Hamato Yoshi. Dead. Killed by the Shredder. This was not real. Could not be real.

As much as he longed for it to be.

If only he weren't so tired.

A thrill of panic rushed through him completely unexpectedly which had nothing to do with his current predicament. Not his own fear- there was _the dojo, outlined in blacks and brights, and a blue net that stretched throughout the room, delicate tendrils interwoven into unreadable patterns that nonetheless felt as familiar to him as the lines in the __palms of his hands, and from the ceiling bled darkness like ink, covering the strands, crushing them, dissolving them into nothing-_

Splinter took a deep breath, startled by the sudden rush of adrenaline, and the vision subsided, leaving his heart hammering against his ribs and his eyes wide. Tang Shen stood, watching him with an unreadable expression, while he tried to organize his thoughts.

_My sons, _he thought with renewed desperation. _Something is happening to them._

"You don't need to worry about them anymore," the woman said in response to his thoughts. Her face was unbearably kind; it stirred up the old ache deep inside of him to see the first woman he had loved so close and yet so impossibly far away. Again, he reminded himself that she was not real, merely an illusion of his mind, created by the very nature of this place.

"I told you," she repeated. Her voice was so much like the one in his memories that it actually hurt to listen to her. He had almost forgotten what she had sounded like. "This- all of this is just as real as you wish it to be." He looked up and she was suddenly very close to him. He could see his own reflection in her eyes. It was really disturbing somehow. He had never liked mirrors. When had she stopped being a shadow?

"You just have to say it."

"You died."

"But what if I hadn't?"

Her eyes were all black, incomparable to the dark brown he remembered, and completely flat. The kindness and sweetness of her face was utterly destroyed by the black holes where her pupils should be, and Splinter only barely stopped himself from taking a step back. _What if I hadn't?_This was what the Ancient One had warned him about. This place was so dangerous because it was made up of the unfulfilled wishes and impossibilities of human life.

_And the gods declared the hearts of men saved from the poison, but they could not stop their creation from wishing, and neither could they prevent the unfulfilled wishes from giving birth to a new darkness. And they said, for all that is, a thousand things are not, and those things must not return; but once they had been wished they could never be undone. And the gods took the things that were not and made them into stone, and made them a temple and hid in it the great darkness…_

_That is all that it is_, he thought. _Poison. And I fell for it. After all the preparations, all the struggles, I still fell for it._

He couldn't see the white thread anymore; it had dissolved in the darkness, just like his defenses had while he had been occupied with not facing his own nightmares. And now they had come to pass anyway, and he had nothing left to hold on to.

But that was not entirely true, was it?

He took a step forward, and another. Tang Shen- no, the image of her, was still watching him with her ink-black eyes. She regarded him calmly while he walked to where she stood. Each step was another battle. He won all of them. No matter what his sons thought, he was not that old just yet. He was still a force to be reckoned with. But he had lost the white thread, his connection to reality, his way back. Still, he knew where it originated, and he knew where it ended, and he knew what that meant. That was all that mattered. Perhaps it was even all he needed. Completing what he was about to do was incredibly reckless in any case, but as it was, he saw no other way.

_I need to have faith in them. They have grown so much._

He stretched out a hand as if to touch Tang Shen's face.

"Show yourself," he whispered in the tongue of the old masters, demanding obedience with every ounce of strength left in him.

_Thu-thump.  
Thu-thump.  
Thu-thump._

Darkness bled from her eyes and ran down her face in rivers while her body dissolved into a shadow once more, coiling around his feet like black smoke, and the heartbeat echoed through the silence and vibrated through his chest until it matched his own.

_Somebody would lose to that storm because it was possible, and somebody would stand up to that storm because it was possible, and somebody would defeat that storm because it was possible also…_

YOU ARE VERY BRAVE, FACING ME, a voice said, and that voice, too, reverberated in his bones. In the air before him, a piece of utter nothingness hung as if someone had cut out a piece of the very fabric of space and time and left a gaping hole. It was still pulsing.

WHAT IS IT THAT YOU WANT TO ACHIEVE, LITTLE MAN? YOU ARE ALONE.

Splinter's snout stretched into a smile.

"But what if I were not?"

With the last of his strength, he reached out and found a spirit that reached back for him.

To his left, in a world that had turned dark, a blue light flickered and took form of a door.


	17. Breaking the wards

**AN:** _I suck. That's all. I'm sorry, though, and I hope this chapter makes up for it._

* * *

**BREAKING THE WARD**

* * *

WHERE ARE YOU?

_He tripped, and then he found himself flat on his back, Raphael looming over him, unable to do anything but scream as the rusty metal pipe swung at his head in a terrible arc and-  
_

He didn't gasp, not even close. It was but the smallest exhalation of breath, almost a whine except there was no sound. Leo's eyes snapped open and he doubled over, cringing, as he resurfaced from his subconscious and back into the shadowed realms of the spirit world. _I figured it out, _he wanted to shout, but the words got stuck in his throat. _I get it now. I get it. _His vision was blurry. He blinked against the darkness at the edge of his vision, but it didn't go away. Instead, he drew in a deep breath and tried to focus more closely on his surroundings. He was so tired though. So terribly tired. Where his fingers held Usagi's, they were shaking with exhaustion.

"I wish Splinter were here," Don muttered.

As if on cue, on the far wall of the dojo, a blue light flickered and slowly took form of a door.

Usagi watched through half-lidded eyes as the blue glow curved into the shape of a portal. Next to him, Leonardo was silent, deeply submerged in his concentration, but his hands were trembling. The samurai found himself desperately wishing for something he could do to help. But the truth was, he didn't have the energy left. Whatever had happened to him earlier, it had refilled his life energy, but he was far from ready to fight back yet. And even though the realization came slowly, blurred memories of dark spaces and teeth, he was not overly keen on reliving the experience.

He was relieved to see that the other three turtles were now also trying to calm themselves enough for meditation. If they could only manage to join their eldest brother in his efforts, things might turn out in their favor after all. Usagi allowed himself to pull back a little in turn. Instead, he concentrated on the portal again. They really could not afford a distraction right now. So far, it simply hung in the air, eerily silent for something so vividly alive. He wondered idly where it led and who had opened it. Anyone who was able to portal directly into the turtles' dojo surely had to be a friend, or at least someone who had a connection to this place that was strong enough to allow such an action. But it was not like he really knew any of his friends' acquaintances. How many of them other than himself knew the correct techniques and rituals to use a portal?

His head hurt, and his concentration was slipping. He swallowed against the pain and tried to stay focused.

Leonardo watched with exhausted trepidation while Donatello felt his way along the edges of his spirit shield. It had shrunk down immensely. That bothered him, but he simply didn't have any energy left to do much about it. All that remained now of his formerly impenetrable walls was a small dome, barely big enough to cover their meditation circle, that ended a few inches above Raphael's head. Blue lines still crisscrossed it and pulsed softly in sharp contrast to the dying glow of his pale yellow shield. The only bright spot that remained in it was in fact Usagi, who was still all but bathed in yellow. Leo thought dully that there was probably more of his own spiritual energy stored in his friend than was left in himself. Not that he minded. But then he was too tired to really mind anything anymore.

_There has to be something we can do. _Donatello's voice sounded timid even in their heads. The orange flame that represented him was for once utterly still. Raphael's dark blue flame was more vivid where it danced to the left and the right as if it dared the darkness to get closer. He did not answer his brother's implied question, but he had clearly heard it, because he, too, started to feel along Leo's shield, trying to understand the process behind it.

_You need to find a way to recharge your battery, _Don continued, this time clearly addressing Leo with his words. _You look terrible._

_Feel terrible, too, _Leo responded weakly. It was true. His energy was draining faster than he would have liked. But what was he supposed to do? What did Don expect him to come up with? Usagi was out of the equation, for whatever he was doing, Leo neither understood it nor did he have the mental space to mull it over. And his brothers? The spirit shield was a technique that they had all been taught years and years ago. He could hardly expect them to remember it now, after all this time, much less master it in whatever precious minutes they had left before he collapsed. He shook his head. _Nothing to be done. I'm sorry._

_No, _Don replied quietly. _It is I who is sorry._

Mikey's spirit flame remained hidden from sight, but Leo could feel his youngest brother's attention focus on him all the same. It was like a lens was suddenly aimed at his face and concentrated pure sunlight on him. He felt abruptly intimidated. Of course there was nothing to be afraid of, he reminded himself. It was Mikey. He'd never hurt any of them. He wouldn't.

Leo felt his brother's answering smile more than he saw it- a spot of warmth in a world that had so suddenly turned dark.

_What about the wards that you used on me, _Mikey said softly.

Leo's response was sharp and immediate. No way would he agree to that. _No. They are not open for discussion. They are there for a reason, Mikey._

_That was years ago, _Mikey replied in the same mild manner. It would have been shocking, hadn't it been so infuriating. _I was inexperienced. Back then, they were the right choice. But not anymore. I am ready now to take care of myself, Leo. Maybe even of you.  
_

Leo's hands were trembling, and he hated himself for it. _Then why didn't Splinter release the bindings already?_

_Because he is not sure, _Mikey replied.

Between them, Donatello's attention started to quiver as he tried and failed to maintain his focus. Something was distracting him, but Leo refused to let himself get sidetracked. Whatever else was going on, his was not a battle he intended to lose.

_But you know better?_

_Yes, _Mikey said.

He sounded perfectly sincere, utterly at ease. And there it was, the temptation. To give up the massive wards that were built up around Mikey meant more energy for Leo, even if it was just a bit; a soothing stream to ease the ache, to cool the burns, to buy them all the precious extra minutes they might need to find an actual solution. It was too good to be true. Of course Mikey had a strong spirit. They all knew it. But this was not a solution, it was a whole new problem, especially in the light of his newest discoveries. And Leo knew it, and still he found himself tempted. He bit down hard on his tongue until the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth and brought him back to what he hoped were his senses.

_They are your protection, _he protested. It sounded weak even to him. In response, Raph's spirit flame flared up when he registered it and automatically scanned their surroundings for the threat. Futile. Everything was a threat, and now Mikey turned out to be the greatest of all of them. Leo felt suddenly and desperately sorry for his family.

_I can't do that, Mikey_, he said sadly. _Please understand. T__hey are there so that you will not be threatened._

_Oh, Leo, it doesn't matter, _Mikey said; and the gentleness was back, it washed over the eldest like warm water. _I know that you figured it out. It found me anyway._

Of course he had known, had figured it out himself only minutes ago, but to have it confirmed so boldly still made Leo's blood run cold. The nightmares, the visions, the nameless fears he'd experienced over the course of the last few weeks had never been his own. They had always been Mikey's, had simply reflected back on him. It seemed ridiculously obvious now that he knew for sure, but that did not make it any more painful. It also did nothing to change his mind.

_Don't make me do it myself, _Mikey said.

Leo's heart started pounding so loudly that he could hear it, could feel his pulse beating against his ribs. Because the thing was, Mikey could do that. He actually had the power to break his bonds himself, and if he was sure enough of himself to try, there was little Leo could do to hold him back. _There has to be another way, _the eldest pleaded- and he had sunk low enough that he had to resort to pleading with his own brother, had to literally _fight_ Mikey to _protect_ Mikey, and that hurt, but it was nothing compared to the thought of his youngest family member lying before him, motionless and empty, the way Usagi had…

_Splinter, _Don said, as if from far away, and the orange flame that was him started dancing again. His agitation effectively interrupted their argument and distracted even Raphael enough to turn away from the scene that unfolded in front of him. And yes, of course, that was a solution, the perfect solution in an ideal world. But this was not perfect nor was it ideal, and fate had never been kind to the Hamato family in the past. How high were the chances for their sensei to come in and save them now? Slim did not even cover it. Leo shook his head, unwilling to let himself be distracted. He was not done with Mikey yet. Splinter would have to wait...

_No, _Donatello insisted. His voice held a whole new level of urgency, one that sent a shiver down Leo's spine. _Splinter._

Leo's head snapped up in time to see the last glow of the portal die away. And a few feet from where they all sat on the tatami mats, a piece of utter emptiness hung in the air, motionless except for a soft pulsing.

He felt his blood run cold and all his thoughts ground to a halt. Next to him, Usagi drew himself up into a sitting position and leaned forward, every muscle quivering with tension. Something was terribly wrong, but Leo couldn't put a finger on it. Couldn't concentrate. He was so cold that it physically hurt, like frost on his skin, ice crystals in his blood, the shards drilled deep into his brain. Thinking hurt.

Don let out a tiny sound, barely more than an exhalation of breath, and Leo finally realized that something was wrong. But he was so tired, and the cold made him slow, made his thoughts sluggish and breathing hard. _He had to. Had to find out. Find out what was going on. Had to keep the shield up. Had to find out. Divide his attention. Impossible, impossible. Necessary. Had to._

The black gap, as empty as it was, had a thin outline that was utterly different, Leo realized belatedly. It was glowing in a yellow so bright that it seemed almost white, and the shock went all the way down his spine and froze his muscles, made him ache.

_Splinter, _he repeated, unable to believe what he was seeing, and Mikey took the chance and broke his hold.

There was no gasp, because there was no space left for something as mundane as a breath. The room had been shrouded in darkness so thick that it seemed absolute, and from one moment to the next, there was light.


	18. Mentally pacing

**A/N: **_This time on time. We are taking a last dive into the spiritual realms here. Sorry for the endless interludes, guys. I promise the action will speed up soon. Reviews?_

* * *

**MENTALLY PACING**

* * *

_Everyone has it, that mental sanctuary that they retreat to when all else failed. Let us call it the Happy Place. It is, of course, not always a specific location. Nor is it necessarily extraordinarily happy. But for whatever reason, the expression has become a tradition, and it is suitable enough for most people. Leonardo is no exception to that rule._

_Leo's Happy Place has always been, will perhaps always be the ocean. There were several quite obvious reasons for that. One, he is a turtle, and it is a widely known fact that turtles love water. Two, the sound of waves splashing up the beach is incredibly soothing to the mind. And three, the astral plane to him has always been similar to a body of water that blurred out borders and turned the mundane businesses of everyday life into something surreal and weightless._

_A much less obvious reason, but one no less valid, was the fact that Leo often found himself secretly wishing for a place to be lonely. Not quiet, or remote, or abandoned. A thousand places even in central New York were like that. Their own home was such a place. But no matter what he did, everything always seemed impossibly crowded. He could not just get rid of his friends and family, would never wish to, but the knowledge that there were always people nearby who could potentially need him at any given second threatened to suffocate him at times. _

_At these moments, he wished not to be alone, but truly lonely; and so he made himself a place where he could be so by himself, so far gone from the rest of the world that he could at last find the mental space to miss people._

_And an ocean, for all that it seems populated by all sorts of animals and algae and silly humans in silly black suits, is also vast and cold and deep and, when one really gets down to it, utterly empty._

_So that was where his Happy Place was. He picked the deepest part of the ocean he could think of, maybe the bottom of the Mariana Trench or even deeper- a hole drilled through the mud and the rock until it almost got warm again, so close was it to the planet's boiling center. It was dark, of course, but Leo didn't mind that. He was used to the dark, welcomed it even. It hid him from the prying eyes he was so secretly afraid of, the eyes that were always inseparably paired with greedy hands and wailing sounds. No, the dark was much better. He liked the dark, and in his private moments, he liked to think of it as a cloak, and he wore it wrapped so tightly around his body that it felt almost like a second skin. The darkness did not make demands, but what it took, it kept._

_The water pressure was also quite high down in the hole, but Leo has shouldered heavier burdens in his life, and he was confident enough in his own abilities to withstand it. He would not break, never even considered it a possibility, and therefore it did not happen._

_And then there was the cold. Yes, it was cold down there, terribly so, even though he could feel the fire all around him where it nerved the rock that surrounded his sanctuary. Magma burned only inches from his skin, glowing white with heat and power. Sometimes, he watched them from afar, never touching, never demanding, and in return they curled around his safe spot and cradled it, his Happy Place, and burned pictures into the rocks. And it stayed cold. Low temperatures had always made him slow, but he didn't come to go anywhere nor to think about anything in particular. He came to be, nothing more and nothing less, and so he was._

_In Leo's Happy Place, there was silence._

_And it was lonely down in the depths._

_So utterly lonely._

***T*M*N*T***_  
_

_Everyone has it, that mental sanctuary that they retreat to when all else failed. Let us call it the Happy Place. It is, of course, not always a specific location. Nor is it necessarily extraordinarily happy. But for whatever reason, the expression has become a tradition, and it is suitable enough for most people. Donatello is no exception to that rule._

_Don's Happy Place was… complicated. He had changed it often, sometimes many times over the course of one meditation session, and while he liked to think that he had now finally found something he could comfortably settle on, the truth was: his mind simply did not have an off-switch like that._

_In the beginning, his Happy Place was his own lab- the tiny corner in the abandoned sewer tunnel they called home for the first fifteen years of his life, before the topside world happened and things changed, and he suddenly had an own room for his equipment, and after the move when he tried to mentally reconstruct his new lab he found that he couldn't remember whether he had shut off the Bunsen burner properly, or put the hammer back where it belonged, and in what stage was his latest experiment again? And it made him antsy and gave him a headache and so he had to adapt._

_Then they met April, and she was intriguing in all the ways his brothers were not. She was smart- not as smart as him, not just tech-smart, smart in different ways, and clever, and willing to listen to him and ask questions and oh, she was actually interested in what he had to say, she was brilliant. And her flat was small and cozy with cushions in all the right places and the smell of laundry detergent in the air. So he made her living room his new Happy Place, and it worked just fine for a while. But then it made him think of April too much, of how she sat on that sofa in the evening, watching soaps on that TV, and how she washed her laundry and slept in the next room and had breakfast on the table and he got all confused and itchy and uncomfortable, and so he had to adapt again._

_He switched for a while. Meditation did not come easy to him at the best of times, and the more he tried, the worse it got, he distracted himself with new design ideas for his own sanity and lost his mind over it. In the end, he tried a void. He created himself a nothing, no colors, no forms, a single unmoving universe of invisible fabric from which he banned and erased everything until it was completely and truly empty, and then he got stuck. He did not remember any of it, and only over time did he find out that it took Leo and his father over two days to get him out of it. After that, he skipped meditation for a while._

_Now Don's Happy Place was his own brain._

_It was so simple that it seemed laughable. He dug out a corner in his own brain- he knew the best spots after all- and he disconnected it from the main synopses, and then he sat back and watched his mind at work. It was soft and silent and the light was dim, and thoughts were electric currents like sparks a safe distance away. Every time something complex came to mind, he watched it pass by in an explosion of colored light while it stored itself in his long-term memory for later inspection, and it did not bother him in his concentration; it just made him smile occasionally. It was very beautiful, watching himself be, and for the first time, he discovered what it meant to be truly at ease with his own mind._

_In Don's Happy Place, he was finally alone._

_And over time, he became more centered in himself, and he learned to look forward to meditation sessions._

***T*M*N*T***_  
_

_Everyone has it, that mental sanctuary that they retreat to when all else failed. Let us call it the Happy Place. It is, of course, not always a specific location. Nor is it necessarily extraordinarily happy. But for whatever reason, the expression has become a tradition, and it is suitable enough for most people. Raphael is no exception to that rule._

_Ironically, Raph's Happy Place was as far from the city he loved as it could possibly be- the furthest he himself had ever been, Japan not included. It was ironic because it was hard for others, the hothead more than anyone, to picture Raphael happy in any place that was not New York. All of his brothers loved "their" city, some more than others and for varied reasons, but Raphael… The Big Apple was in his blood, it was his drug, his air, as deeply ingrained in his very being as ninjitsu or his loyalty for his brothers. _

_Maybe it was not so ironic after all that his Happy Place, the sanctuary he chose to remove himself from the world, was as far away as he dared to go._

_In other words, it was in North Hampton._

_In Raphael's world, being Raphael was a necessary evil. He was impulsive, and daring, and challenging, and too strong for his own good, and he got into trouble often but at least he got others out of it. His family needed him, and he needed his family, and when he allowed himself to be honest he also needed the thrill and the chase and the smell of gasoline and burnt rubber and electricity. But there were times when he got tired of his moods and his hammock and his friends and his sai, tired of everything. So sometimes, when he dared, when he needed a rest or a good think or just some space, he chose to become… not Raphael._

_The farmhouse had been a place made of mixed emotions and difficult memories from the beginning. When they first retreated there, April's house and home had been burnt to cinders, they all had been bruised in body and mind, and Leo had been quite possibly breathing his last. The following time there was marked most noticeably by a crazed monster hunter, a street gang gone wild, and the slow and painful return of their eldest brother that has still not fully ended. _

_And yet…_

_There were times, mostly at night, when the silence stretched out from the hills to the stream so absolutely that Raph, perched on the roof of the house, felt like he was all alone in the world, and he felt himself shrink and expand at the same time in tune with the universe around him. And the night sky was like New York, just inverted, as if someone had painted the city that he loved on the greatest canvas that they could possibly find and mixed up the colors so that all the lights were black and all the shadows were white. And he allowed himself to fall in love with it, with the open space and the silence and the smell of resin and fresh water and the peace._

_New York made him feel alive, but sometimes that was a burden. North Hampton did not care either way. Maybe there was a turtle running through the forest. Maybe not. It did not matter in the country._

_And so, in his Happy Place, Raphael sat perched on the top of the farm house and watched the land unfold beneath him, and he stopped trying to live in favor of simply being._

_And when he had enough, he returned to his family and his city and his life and was Raphael again._

***T*M*N*T***_  
_

_Everyone has it, that mental sanctuary that they retreat to when all else failed. Let us call it the Happy Place. It is, of course, not always a specific location. Nor is it necessarily extraordinarily happy. But for whatever reason, the expression has become a tradition, and it is suitable enough for most people. Usagi is no exception to that rule._

_Usagi's Happy Place was in constant flux. He so often visited new lands, met new people and experienced new wonders that it involuntarily reflected on the world of his mind. A cherry tree in full bloom, the petals a thousand shades of fuchsia and rose. Training grounds, deserted for the time being, the sand hot in the midday sun. A fire in a small cave that made the shadows dance to an inaudible music while, just outside and above, the peaks of the mountains disappeared in the clouds that came in from the north, heavy with snow._

_They were small places, intricate but reclusive, little more than calligraphy done with a very fine brush, all thin lines and soft colors and velvet. Life as a wandering ronin was hard, and Usagi was always grateful for a warm bed and a meal in the morning in times when he happened to be hired, but cities tended to overwhelm him and he despised the court with its balls and painted faces and the false courtesies that could never quite hide the selfish intrigues that lurked beneath them. And so he enjoyed the luxury of a bath every other day and indulged himself in sake and laughter for a week or two, until it became too much and he left in search of the next adventure. He would think back during the first days, when the road makes his back ache and the rain makes lighting a fire impossible. But there was always something new around the next corner, and the next one after that, and soon, he found another thing to learn and forgot his body's demands over it. After all, they were rather silly in comparison._

_In his Happy Place, wherever it was at that time, the air was always fresh and the sky was always within sight. He used to paint it more or less exactly twenty feet square and fraying at the seams, which was more than enough space to enjoy the sight and watch the grass bend in the breeze, watch the leaves fall and the snow reflect the light of his fire. Never more. The rest he left blank like a white canvas. He would need the space again, later, on another day, perhaps when autumn painted the world in red and gold and inspired a new picture._

_Sometimes, he thought about doing more. He envisioned himself with a brush, a larger one, and with it he drew a pathway that wound through the empty spaces until it found a hill, and on top of that hill, there would be a small hut made of wood and clay. There was always smoke pouring from the chimney, and laughter rang through the air like bells. But he never followed the path. The hut was too solid for his calligraphy world, and the laughter made him ache. He did not, after all, come into this paintbrush image for company, or for adventure, or to think about much at all. Those were exercises for the days, when the dust colored his clothes and people came and went, friends and foes alike. No, when he retreated to his Happy Place, he simply was._

_It was perhaps a bit lonely sometimes._

_But it always made him realize whose company he was missing the most, and when he resumed his travels, it was with a spring in his steps, because at the end of the next road, maybe he would sit down for a drink and write a little enquiry, and nobody was ever too far away._

***T*M*N*T***_  
_

Leo opened his eyes, and it did not make a difference.

He did not take a breath. There was no air under water, and his astral self needed none.

It was dark down here. He smiled. Darkness was his faithful companion, his closest friend. Darkness was his cloak, and he wrapped it around himself like a second skin until he felt completely safe. Nobody would find him if he did not wish to be found.

The pressure was quite high; he could feel it on his skin, a soft drumming like rain on the windowpanes except without sound, like the bass without the music, vibrating in his chest and finding an echo in his head. It was not uncomfortable. He was confident enough in his abilities to know that he could withstand it, and so he allowed it to wash over him and ease itself around him until it turned its malicious force against the rocks instead.

Belatedly, he realized that he was not cold.

He was too centered to let such a minor detail worry him. Instead, curiosity took over. He reached out past the dark and the current and the rock until he found the fire. It was still there, still pulsing to the beat of a hidden heart, but something had changed, and Leo used the rising temperatures to think about it. He couldn't quite explain the differences, even though they were clearly there, and he wondered idly who could help him with this sordid little problem.

It really was very lonely down here.

He thought that perhaps, it was time to return to his family.

The water was still getting warmer, coloring the rock walls a shaded grey, while the water turned into a dark sapphire blue. Leo smiled at the pureness of what he was seeing before he remembered that it was supposed to be dark. Warmth does not necessarily provide light, though the opposite is infinitely more likely, and he gathered the last shrouds of his beloved shadows around him before he finally looked up.

The surface was not too far above him now, a circular mirror that shone bright blue, and beneath it, he could see the sun. Stray beams painted intrinsic patterns on his skin and turned it into shades of emerald, and the shadows danced around it like dust motes.

_Time to go back, _he thought with a smile, and then his face broke the surface.

With a deep breath, he reached up for the light.

***T*M*N*T***

Donatello opened his eyes and blinked against the dim light.

All around him, cables and wires crisscrossed all available space and cast strange, elongated shadows against the wall. He wondered briefly where he was, and the question invoked sparks along the nearest cables that flew past him and disappeared in the shadows. He smiled and settled back more comfortably against the wall.

It really was quite dark in here though. Since this place was made up by him, he supposed he could make it lighter. Then again, it was built to resemble his own mind. Maybe his subconscious wanted to tell him something.

Another burst of sparks passed him and disappeared while he mulled this one over. Then another. He watched them pass, trying hard not to be annoyed by the fact that his own thoughts literally escaped him. Maybe if he could re-wire this place…

No. That was not what his sanctuary was there for. It was meant to be a place to relax, to get away from the mundane world, and it had taken him too much energy to make to now destroy it. Besides, he needed it as an entry point for the astral planes. He refused to give up so easily, though. Maybe he could follow the sparks, find out where they went and what they meant without any changes to the little blank corner he had designed for himself.

More sparks soared by.

He got up and felt his way along the walls until he found one of the main synopses. Careful not to touch it, he stayed to its right and followed it in the direction that his thoughts had taken. He couldn't be certain, but thoughts were electric currents, and when he got grilled and _presumed _he'd died, then maybe he'd really die, and…

He yelped when another burst of sparks passed him, humming with energy, and then quickened his pace before he could lose them again.

It was definitely getting brighter now. The threads around him got fewer and thinner, curling around one another now. It looked strangely delicate, the way they intertwined like vine branches. It reminded him of the calligraphy that Leo liked to do.

Only a little bit further…

With a last, deep breath Donatello stepped into the light.

***T*M*N*T***

Raph opened his eyes and stared at the stars above him.

It took him only a second to realize where he was. Wood, rough and solid beneath him, gradually changing into roof tiles. The clear, fresh scent of water and raisin in the air. And the Milky Way that stretched out from one side of the horizon to the other, undiluted and silent and beautiful.

He felt the invisible weights and burdens of everyday life lift from his shoulders as he settled back more comfortably and traced the line of stars with his fingers.

He didn't wonder how he came to be here, or what he was supposed to be doing, or where his brothers were. Here, he was not Raphael. He was Not-Raphael. He didn't worry, he just was.

Somewhere in the silence, he heard a soft sound, like the slow beat of drums in the distance. Thump-Thump. Thump-Thump. For some reason unbeknownst to him, a primal instinct of an ancient past, a shudder crept down his spine and he sat up straight and scanned the night for potential danger. For the first time ever, he wished for light in his sanctuary. Normally, he liked the darkness. You didn't find darkness like this in the city where everything was always grey and shaded and dusty and nothing like the truly rich black of the country. But now something was out there, something dangerous, and he felt the sudden need to find out what it was.

He was confident that here the walls of the farm house could ward off anything that may or may not stroll the night. But he remembered now that he was not the only one worth worrying about.

He looked up at the stars again where they wound through the night sky like a pathway between hills until they got smaller and smaller in the distance. Paths could be walked, and he wondered where this one might lead him.

With a sigh, he got up and rolled his shoulders. Then he jumped.

When his feet hit solid ground again, it was to a soft, tinny noise alike to the sound of fingers on the rim of a water glass, high-pitched and melodious. The Not-Raphael would have stood, mesmerized, and figured out all the ways a star can sing. But instead, he simply hurried his pace down the glowing path.

Raphael was back.

In the distance, the sun rose, and when the first yellow beams of light made the sky around him echo with power, he broke into a run.

***T*M*N*T***

Usagi opened his eyes and stared at a blank page.

His initial relief was short-lived, however, as he found himself confronted with a new problem. A few feet from where he lay, the canvas was torn.

He slowly rounded the gap while he tried to figure out how to fix it. Beneath his feet, blades of grass, colored in the rich, emerald green of summer, sprung into being and disappeared again when he walked onwards. What to do, what to do? He bent down and ran his hands along the fraying edges where teeth had ripped his blank slate apart like paper. Teeth and claws, he thought. This was nothing he could paint over. He was not even sure how to begin.

Everything was silent while he considered that. The whiteness was a bit unsettling, but the black _nothing_ in front of him was infinitely worse. He wondered if he should put up a warning sign lest someone fell inside. But this was _his_ mind. It was hardly a place made for others to wander around in.

He found himself tempted to throw a stone into the gap and count the seconds until it splashed so he could estimate the depths.

Splashed?

And the solution was so easy. The hole drilled deep through the fabric of his mind, but he had all the material he needed to return it into his calligraphy world. It was deep and cold and hollow, but he knew how to fill it. He had an ocean on his hands, and all he needed now was a shore.

Sand crunched beneath his feet when he finally took a few steps back and sat down in the shade of a tussock of marram grass.

To his left, the pathway wound onwards between half-finished sketches of hills and trees. It was always there, always beckoning him to follow it, and he never did, but he never could fully erase it either. It was an established part of his consciousness, a constant test.

For maybe the first time, the open space around him made him slightly uncomfortable. Whatever had ripped his canvas like this, it was clearly still out there. Just because he didn't see it didn't mean it wasn't there. He was unsure what to do about it. While he didn't want anything else to add to the shadows that lurked in his subconscious, walking around until he found another hole and fixing that too seemed a futile exercise.

Perhaps, with a little help, and a bit of light to chase the shadows from his mind…

There was a subtle shift in the air.

Rings appeared on the mirror-flat surface of his small ocean before they rose into waves and splashed against the beach.

On the opposite shore, a dune split into a cave entrance, silent except for the sand that fell all around the opening.

The pathway next to him glowed like a million individual, shining pinpricks, and the air started to sing.

Far above him the sun rose.

With a smile, Usagi reached out for the light.


	19. Beginning of the end

**AN:** _Well, I guess we have safely established that a) I am not made for regular updates and that b) epic finale battles have now officially replaced opening sentences as the bane of my existence. Anyway, this chapter is really long and I hope that it makes up for it. It was really hard to find a point to cut it at all, and I promise the next update won't take me half as long!_**  
**

_Special thanks go to Elphaba-Rose who, with her continued support and her willingness to read whatever I produce, makes me both very happy and got me back to the keyboard again. xoxo_

_Also, can I just say I suck at titles? Yes, I can. On with the story.  
_

* * *

**BEGINNING OF THE END**

* * *

**[AND SO IT STARTS, the voice said.  
_And so it starts, _****Michelangelo agreed.]**

The mirror-flat surface of the small ocean broke into ripples, then rings of waves that splashed against the beach. Usagi looked up just in time to see Leonardo pull himself ashore. The turtle stood and blinked against the light while water ran down his shell and legs in small rivulets before it seeped into the sand. Then he spotted Usagi, and his eyes lit up at once.

The samurai's face was set in a heavy frown, but at the sight of his friend, it split into an answering grin, and he got up and made his way across the beach.

"Leonardo," he said, concern and surprised happiness warring in his tone. "Not that I am not glad to see you- but what are you doing here?"

Leo shrugged somewhat helplessly. "You tell me," he replied while he looked around at the small stretch of beach that bordered quite abruptly on vast white. "Where is _here_, exactly?"

**[WHY DID YOU CHOOSE THIS PLACE?  
You_ were here. Besides, it is the right choice. He is not as set as my brothers. Anything can happen from here.  
_I AM EVERYWHERE, AND WHERE I AM, NOTHING IS SET. ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN IF IT IS SO DESIRED. There was a short pause. THAT WAS A POOR EXCUSE.  
_Well, I don't know then. Maybe I am just trying to protect my brothers._****]**

Usagi was just about to answer when a soft sound alerted him. Both of them turned just in time to see the dunes on the shore opposite tear into a gap. Sand fell into it, but it was quickly replaced with an olive green head as Donatello exited the cave. He muttered angrily to himself while he tried to get grains of sand out from under his shell, but he quickly straightened up when he sensed eyes on him.

"Well, hello there," he called out and rounded the shore to join them. "Fancy meeting you."

Usagi's frown returned and settled down to stay. "Donatello-san," he said. "And how did _you_ come to be here?"

**[THEY ARE ALL GOING TO DIE ANYWAY.  
_Banalities, _****Mikey yawned. _You are repeating yourself. When will we begin?  
_THEY ARE ALREADY PLAYING, the voice said.]**

"Good question," Don replied and finally gave up on the sand that was still stuck in the creases of his shell. "Depends on where 'here' is, though."

Once again, Usagi opened his mouth to answer; once again, he was interrupted. Everything had been rather quiet up to that point, but suddenly there was a note, a single chord strung all the more noticeably for it shattered the silence and turned it into music solid enough to touch, powerful enough to blot out the painting for a moment, an aubade of light. Usagi grimaced and pulled down his ears just in time for the sound to reach its highest peak and then stop. Raphael stepped from the half-sketched pathway out onto the beach and stumbled to a halt.

This time, the flash of annoyance on the samurai's face was only badly concealed. He barely stopped a sigh from escaping him. "And here we have Raphael-san. Welcome to you, too."

Raph stared at the three of them with narrowed eyes. "Yeah," he finally said. "Hello. What's going on?" He stepped closer, but moved with caution; his amber eyes scanned his surroundings, as sparse as they may be, but couldn't find any indications of danger. Finally, he refocused on his brothers and Usagi. "What is this place?"

Usagi fought his irritation back down. "Funny that you might ask," he said as calmly as possible. "If you must know, this is my mind, and I would like to know what you are all doing here."

**[_What are you talking about? _Michelangelo demanded. _They can't be playing. They have only just assembled!  
_THEY HAVE NEVER STOPPED.  
_That has to be against the rules, _****Mikey muttered.  
YOU ARE MISTAKING THIS FOR A GAME. IT IS NO GAME. THERE ARE NO RULES.]**

The silence that followed stretched on too long. The four of them stood somewhat awkwardly, with Don shuffling his feet and Leo frowning at the sand as if it had personally offended him. Raphael was obviously still on edge, even though he tried to hide it. Of them all, Usagi looked openly worried and a bit annoyed; mostly, though, he seemed lost. After all, his Happy Place was his most personal, safest refuge, and now it had been invaded - by friends, admittedly, but all the same he did not know how to deal with this.

He flinched when Leo touched his arm but forced himself to smile. "Apologies," he said. "The situation is a bit… overwhelming."

The other three continued to look at him, Leo and Don apologetic, Raphael still tense.

"I don't even know what to say," Leo finally muttered. "Just… there was light, and so… In any case it is not you who has to apologize." He bowed then, and the others quickly mimicked him. "Believe me, if we could… not be here," Leonardo continued, and there was a new edge to his voice, "then we wouldn't be."

Don nodded. "This is supposed to be an astral place, right? But that would mean that we can leave as soon as we stop meditating."

"Doesn't work," Raph muttered. Leo glanced at him with new concern on his face, but Raphael gave a miniscule shake of the head.

Usagi looked back and forth between the three of them, then turned his eyes up. "Yes," he said slowly, "the light is new."

**[_If there are not rules, then how do we win?  
_YOU DON'T, the voice said. YOU CAN NOT WISH A WISH AWAY; YOU CAN NOT DESIRE FOR DESIRE TO BE GONE.  
_Yes, I can, _****Michelangelo replied. _It is only human.  
_YOU ARE NOT HUMAN.  
_Human enough._****]**

So much was strange about this situation, and so much was wrong. But there were other things that demanded their attention just as well. Where was Michelangelo? And how had they come to be here, in this strange half-finished painting? Usagi, most of all of them, was lost; here they were, intruders, upsetting his water and changing the colors of his drawing, and he never did paint a sun in the sky, and besides, hadn't they all been in the dojo just minutes ago and stared at a figure that looked like Splinter on the outside but with eyes so flat and empty that they worked like a mirror, and weren't they going to talk about _that_?

Usagi touched Leonardo's arm, both offering comfort and seeking reassurance. When Leo met his eyes, there was something akin to fear in his eyes. But how could he not fear, how could he not worry? After all, Mikey was still missing.

Indeed- where was his baby brother? Suddenly alert, Leo spun in a circle, but there was no trace of the youngest anywhere, only sand and water and marram grass, all in pastel shades and as intricate as calligraphy.

"Once I find out who is responsible for this-" Raphael did not finish his sentence, but he didn't need to. They all felt the same, an underlying anger that stemmed from the worry and tension of days, if not weeks, and the solution to their questions still nowhere in sight.

**[THEY ARE GROWING IMPATIENT. AND SO AM I.  
_Splinter is still missing.  
_For the first time, a hint of surprise crept into the voice. HE IS NO LONGER RELEVANT.  
There was a pause. _What? _Mikey finally said, and there was enough badly concealed rage in that syllable to make Raphael proud. The voice, however, seemed unimpressed.  
ONE HAS LOST TO THE STORM, BECAUSE IT WAS POSSIBLE. NOW, ARE YOU READY TO BEGIN?]**

The rooftops were an endless maze of concrete, tar and tiles. None of them could see further than the first three or four houses, the night was too dark for that, but they all knew that the city did not stop with the limits of their vision. In the distance, far enough to be blurry and dim, the windows of the higher skyscrapers threw their yellow light into the haze. Far below, cars rushed by, mindless of the group that reformed in the middle of the roof of what seemed to be your ordinary apartment building.

"Where are we?" Usagi whispered, suddenly timid.

"Rooftops," Raph growled and reflexively reached for the sai that weren't in his belt. Cursing, he settled into a fighting stance anyway and raised his fists against the invisible enemy. "But don't ask me how or why."

"Impossible," Usagi muttered but mimicked Raph's pose. "I have never seen this place before, how can it just appear in my-"

He stopped abruptly and his eyes widened. Alerted, the other three spun around and stared at the darkness ahead. Moments later they heard it as well: footsteps, coming closer.

"Who's there?" Leo demanded, but it lacked his usual bite. He sounded distressed, mostly, and the others could hardly be miffed about it, since they felt the same fear that wore them down second by second. Usagi couldn't help but think that their spiritual energy might have been refilled by the mysterious light and whatever forces have joined their side, but that the threat had not become any less real by it, rather the opposite.

A woman entered the scene. From what little Usagi could make out in the dim light, she was tall, with dark hair and piercing green eyes, and her spirit outlined her lean figure in a pale yellow that looked startlingly like Leonardo's.

Next to him, the three brothers simultaneously drew in a sharp breath, and the samurai suddenly wished it wasn't quite that dark.

"Karai," Leonardo said when the woman stopped a few feet from them. Usagi wrecked his brain, but the name did not ring any bells. _Probably no-one important, _he tried to calm himself. The color of her spirit was simply a coincidence. The varieties of spirit flames stemmed from the character behind it; things like that happened all the time. _Coincidence_. Maybe she was a friend.

She smiled when she met his gaze. It was a strange sight- her lips stretched and her eyes narrowed, but it looked more like a cheap mimicry of kindness, like she wasn't used to it at all. To his right, Usagi heard Raph mutter, "not Karai," and saw Leo bring his hands back up in a defensive position. "Who are you?" he demanded, more sharply this time. "And what do you want?"

"Ah, Leonardo." She tilted her head, and this time it was Leo who growled, a primal rumble from deep in his chest that seemed to resonate through Usagi's very atoms. "Always so suspicious. Why would it _not_ be me?"

There were a hundred possible reasons for the turtles to list here, from the most obvious- _because_ _this is Usagi's mind- _to the most far-fetched- _Karai doesn't move like you at all- _but in the end, nobody said anything in response. Her smile became strained as time passed by, and when she spoke again, there was a fresh hint of anger in her expression. "All right," she finally sniffed. "Be like that then. And you," she turned and faced Usagi, and the samurai drew a sharp breath; her eyes were as flat as mirrors. "Stop messing around and step aside already."

Leo snarled at her; Karai's eyes narrowed and focused on his face again, and the turtle stopped, startled. He could see his own reflection in her eyes even from a few feet away as she stared at him, unblinking, and the sight was both unfamiliar and deeply unsettling. With a thick swallow, he tried for his usual calm demeanor. "I won't repeat myself again. Who are you and what do you want?"

"Oh, you know me," she said, and her mouth stretched into the sick imitation of a smile again. "All of you do. However, this time, I am here for a very specific reason. You see, my master needs a body."

Donatello automatically scanned the surrounding area for any signs of Foot backup. He desperately wished for his bo, for any kind of weapon. "What does a Shredder want a body for?" he asked, his voice sharp. "Is the Utrom technology he stole all those years ago no longer sufficient for him?"

He had expected a laugh from her or a sneer, and when she remained silent instead, Don barely dared to look at her. She regarded him calmly, and it raised goosebumps all over his skin. Next to him, he heard Raphael growl again, a deep, threatening sound that he nonetheless recognized as fear.

"Silly mortal. I am not here on behalf of the Shredder," she said.

**[_Silly mortal? _Michelangelo snickered.  
YOU REALLY BELIEVE YOU CAN WIN, the voice said. YOU KNOW THERE IS NO CHANCE FOR YOU, AND YET YOU KEEP TRYING. WHY?  
_If you can dream it, you can do it, _****Michelangelo said.  
I COULDN'T AGREE WITH YOU MORE. HOWEVER, THIS TIME YOU ARE WRONG.]**

Leonardo's eyes narrowed, both in annoyance and suspicion. But before he could demand for anything more, Karai continued.

"My master is Adishesha, the first serpent, and I am here because he is in need of a body."

"Well, you ain't getting any of us." Raph's voice was cracking and his hands were balled so tightly that they were shaking; his face however was as set as stone, defiant and challenging at the same time. "So how 'bout you piss off and crawl back into the hole you came from."

"We will see about that," she said.

"Raph." Leo raised a hand to silence his brother's growing agitation. "Let's hear her out, shall we?" Then he turned back to Karai and crossed his arms in front of his chest in defiance. "All right. Who is this Adishesha guy, and what's he want?"

"Figures," Raph muttered and turned away. Don grimaced but remained silent. A strange feeling crept over Usagi and he shot a questioning glance at the red-masked turtle who returned it with a snarl. "It's because she's his precious, flawless _girlfriend_," he said, vicious, and this time it was Usagi who grimaced and quickly turned away, heat rising to his cheeks.

Leo, who desperately tried to ignore the bickering that was taking place behind his back, shifted uncomfortably but kept his gaze fixed on the image of the woman in front of him. "I'm listening," he said.

Karai's head tilted to the side as she eyed Leonardo in apparent confusion. "You do not know the legends of the Old Gods?" she asked. Even though her voice had not changed, Leo and his brothers found goosebumps rising on their skin; the finer hairs of Usagi's neck and arms stood on end and he hissed despite himself before he finally brought himself between the woman and the three brothers.

"I do," he growled. "And I do not care who you are working for, or whose orders you obey. This is _my_ mind, and _you_ will _leave_."

"I don't think so." She was smiling again, with her head still tilted so much it was obscure; Usagi felt his senses go into overdrive, felt his skin prickle with the overwhelming sensation of being watched. "You are weak," she continued, and suddenly they were nose on nose, so close that all he could see was his own reflection in her flat, dead eyes; it looked scared, and tired, and hopeless. As if through water he thought he heard Leonardo's voice but he could no longer make out the words. His tongue felt glued to the roof of his mouth and his limbs were heavy, so heavy…

**WEAK, USELESS LITTLE MAN. YOU ARE ALREADY DEAD. THERE IS NO PLACE FOR YOU TO RUN. YOU ARE MINE.**

And just like that, like the turns of the tides, he felt his confusion and terror change into anger. The hot fury that burned through his veins was as familiar to him as the straps of leather that adorned the hilts of his katana, as the sound of his own breath, and he allowed himself to be swept up by it.

_This is _my_ mind. There is _no_ force here that is greater than me._

Something sizzled to his feet, not unlike the sound of burning meat, but he refused to look for the source. He kept his eyes locked in a staring match with the woman who regarded him with badly concealed resentment now. His anger fuelled him, and he bared his teeth at her. He had enough. In the past days, he had been violently ripped out of his own world, had been wounded in combat by enemies he had never seen before, he'd almost seen his best friend die and to top it all off he himself had apparently come close to dying more than once; and now a strange woman was telling him that she had invaded his head to sacrifice them all to an Old God, and in none of that did he have any say?

_No, _he thought. _Not this time. This time, we'll do this on my terms._

He stepped closer, so close that their foreheads pressed together, and put into his voice every ounce of strength he possessed.

"I. Said. _Leave_."

The woman _screeched_- there was no other word for it. The sound was so hateful and shrill, so thoroughly _inhuman_, that he felt a wave of nausea roll over him. The air was vibrating. He stepped back and instinctively covered his ears, trying and failing to get out of the range of her voice.

_My mind._

She did not stop screaming, but now he was pushing back. Gradually, the world changed as he relentlessly forced her shadows and her brick buildings out of his mind. There was supposed to be grass under his feet, lush and green and nothing like the rough concrete that scraped at his bare feet. Alike to drops of paint, green patches burst through the black tar and rose skywards in fine blades of grass. Spots of bright blue disrupted the hazy night sky. And the sizzle grew louder as the woman's screams slowly ebbed away.

_My terms._

The empty space all around the roof changed into something solid and dark. Waves crashed against the walls, water splashing over the brinks and showering them in salty droplets as the wind freshened up. From the patches of summer sky, rays of sunlight burst through and illuminated the shadows. And they were winning. Usagi could feel the darkness drain away with every inch that the grass took over the rooftops. The wailing screams had turned down to little more than a choked whimper, and far above them, the strange sun rose.

From the blackest shadows that remained, steam rose skywards. It was the only warning they got before hundreds of bodies detached themselves from the sad remains of the chimneys and TV antennae. They were as black as ink and dripped with dark fluid, and as their mouths opened in a voiceless scream, the puddles spread with increasing speed towards the small group on the roof.

** [_No fair! It's bad enough that you're using her against us! You can't join her!  
_I AM NOT DOING ANYTHING THAT YOU ARE NOT DOING. AND I DID TELL YOU- THERE ARE NO RULES.  
_What I'm doing is not the same. _****Michelangelo paused. _Is it?  
_YOU CAN ALWAYS JOIN THEM.  
He snorted. _Yeah, you wish.  
_YOU KNOW THAT I DON'T.  
There was a short silence when they both tried to assess the situation that played out below them.  
THE SENTIENT MIND IS SUCH A STRANGE PLACE, the voice finally said. IT CONTAINS THE SEED OF ITS OWN DESTRUCTION. I WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND WHY THE GODS CHOSE TO LET THE MORTALS BE WHEN THEY HAD THE CHANCE TO DESTROY ME WITH THEM.  
Michelangelo chose not to get into that. _Speaking of one's own destruction, _he said instead, _why did you bring Usagi here?  
_IT WAS NOT MY INTENTION, the voice said, and for the first time, a trace of annoyance crept into it. THERE WAS… INTERFERENCE. I TRIED TO SUMMON THE GREAT SERPENT. INSTEAD, I GOT HIM. I DO NOT KNOW WHY.  
_That so. Why Karai?  
_THE WOMAN? SHE HAS A STRONG SPIRIT, BUT IT LACKS PROTECTION. SHE OFFERED ME RESOURCES THAT I ACCEPTED. SHE AGREED TO HAVE ME, AND NOW SHE IS MINE.]**

"What kind of black sorcery are you trying to-"

Usagi had directed his words at Karai, but when he looked up, the woman had disappeared. No trace was left to show where she had been standing mere moments ago. With a low curse, the samurai stepped backwards until his back hit a shell.

"Nice slimy goo monsters," Raph muttered and flexed his fingers. "Any idea 'bout how we go on from here?" he asked aloud, the question aimed at his brothers.

"Kicking and screaming," Leo said darkly.

"Yes, I was afraid you'd say that," Don said with a sigh and rolled his shoulders. A drizzle of black curved through the grass at his feet and he sidestepped it gracefully, but it kept following him. He backed up further until he bumped into Raphael, who instantly spun with a curse ready on his lips, but Don merely rolled his eyes. "Can it," he told his older brother as they continued to dance around the black threads that were still trying to catch up with them. "It won't help us one bit if you freak out on us now."

"I'm not freaking," Raph protested weakly. "Just pissed. Yo, fearless!" He raised his eye ridges at his brother who answered the look in kind. "Any ideas?"

"Still working on it," Leo said, then performed a quick backflip as one of the black threads came too close for comfort. "Try and keep clear of these things until I come up with something!"

"Why didn't I think of that?" Raph asked no-one in particular. Sarcasm aside, though, he moved closer to his older brother and pulled Don along by the hand. Over the thunder of adrenaline-fuelled blood in his ears, he heard Leo call out.

"What are these things?"

He'd almost forgotten about Usagi, but now that the samurai was back in his mind, Raphael had a hard time not staring at him. There was something new about him, a powerful, coiled energy that the weak form that had occupied their sofa cushions for the last days had been lacking. Raph was abruptly reminded of the small moment in the dojo when Usagi had allowed his temper to get the better of him, and he saw it again now: the fluidity of movements that in Leo always reminded him of a feline, the ease in which lean limbs settled into a fiercer stand, the incredible speed at which hands and feet followed the commands that eyes and ears were giving them…

He couldn't help but admit that if he could have chosen one person to compliment his big brother, in battle or elsewhere, his choice would have fallen on Usagi rather sooner than later.

Raph found himself abruptly startled from his thoughts when Don yanked at his arm with an impatient huff. Something black whipped past his face, too fast to follow it, and he nodded his thanks to the younger ninja before he focused on the battle again. Not that there was much fighting to speak of- they kept evading the black gooey threads that in turn kept following them. Even though the inky figures themselves kept their distance to the group, it was getting harder and harder not to tread on the slimy excuses of snails that were slowly circling in closer.

_Circling them in._

They must have all shared the same thought, because in a sudden flurry of movement, both Leo and Usagi broke out of their slow dance and rushed for the edges of the grass patches in an attempt to trick their enemies. Both Don and Raph quickly followed after, dodging and spinning past drops of black ink that were starting to rain down on them with new ferocity.

Leonardo and Usagi reached the circle of black figures, still unrecognizable but for their vaguely human shape and their wet glint in the too-bright sunlight. There was a scuffle, and then everyone was on top of one another trying to shield, to block and evade at the same time…

A drop of black goo hit Usagi's skin and _seeped right through._

The samurai stilled. It was such a complete change that Leo only narrowly avoided to plummet into his friend, and Raph realized with an odd lurch of his stomach that his older brother had already gotten so accustomed to Usagi's movements that he had anticipated them beforehand; then something sprayed into a fountain to his left and he ducked just in time to avoid a shower of more oily slime.

Don rushed past him on his other side, determined to get to Usagi before anything else could. "What's going on?" he demanded, but the samurai did not answer. Don noticed with a shock that the white fur on his friend's arm was dissolving- the skin was bubbling and sizzling where the black _thing _had entered and now festered into something big and ugly, not unlike rotten flesh. "Hold his arm," he told Leo even as he reached for the emergency kit on his belt-

And remembered that he didn't have anything on him, because _none of this was real._

"No, wait," he said and looked up just in time to catch a glimpse of his eldest brother before he was tackled to the ground. He barely managed to roll over his shoulder to avoid hitting his head. "What the shell, Leo?" he shouted and looked up…

… only to find himself face to face with a young, female rabbit with long black hair.

Startled, the words died on his lips, and he stared in confusion as the appearance walked past him and approached Usagi. Next to him, Leo struggled to get up, teeth bared, but Don lay there flabbergasted until Raph grabbed him by the armpit and hauled him to his feet.

The woman had stopped about a foot from where Usagi was still standing and smiled at him. She had a nice smile, Don decided. He liked that smile.

When she tilted her head to the side, her hair fell over her shoulder like black silk, and Usagi followed it with his eyes, even though he still seemed unable to move. He swallowed and tried to say something, but his voice died away in his throat; and all the while, the bulbs continued to grow right under his skin and crawl up his arm, rotten and poisonous.

The woman reached out to tentatively touch Usagi's face, and he leaned forward to meet her. He looked like a sleepwalker, seemed completely transfixed on her face. Don couldn't blame him- she really _was_ beautiful, with her straight hair and her delicate frame and her _eyes like marbles, shining and dark and empty._

**[_That's not funny anymore, _Mikey protested weakly.  
I DO NOT UNDERSTAND, the voice said.**  
**_No, you really don't, do you. _There was a pause. _What I mean is: this is enough.  
_THIS IS WHERE IT STARTS, the voice said._  
No, _Michelangelo replied, and there was a new edge to him that hadn't been there before.  
_No, this is where it ends._]  
**


End file.
